In Between the Essence
by KesseGirl1
Summary: After suffering much in his young life, nineteen year old Antonio Sparrow Teach moves on to live in London, working as a lowly farmhand. But all is not so bad when you aren't being chased by the law and when a young woman pries for your friendship. But his life starts turning upside down again when his father unexpectedly shows up after two whole years. Eventual OC/OC
1. Chapter 1: Black

_In Between the Essence_

**Alright, so first I want to wish you all a very happy new year and especially say: WE'RE HERE IN 2015! What I think is real cool is that I'm posting this exactly 12:00 AM. Of course I have to interrupt my Lord of the Rings marathon to do so but I hope it's going to be well worth it. I have been working on this story since August 11th exactly and I am SO CLOSE to finishing it. It's probably going to be only twenty-two to maybe twenty-five chapters. All that chapter are an average of 5000 words, except this one and the next which are only just over 3000 and 4000, plus there are a few more later on that are shorter. **

**Just thought I should warn you before you continue on. This may get a little confusing because I'm using mostly OC'S, except for the crew of the _Black Pearl_ and some possible others. Will and Elizabeth are only going to be mentioned a minimum amount in this so don't expect any appearances from them. If anything confuses you, please contact me via a review or PM (preferably a PM). The reviews I would like you to save for your impute and thoughts for the story. Anything that you don't like I will NOT be changing. I worked hard on this and I will not sacrifice that hard work just to please ONE reader. I like it the way it is and that is all that matters. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own POTC, it belongs to Walt Disney Pictures Films, and the directing credit goes to Jerry Bruckheimer for his amazing skills in making this world come to life.**

**Enjoy! :D**

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><p><strong>-<strong>**Chapter 1- Black**

**Danielle's POV**

I stand with Mama, Father, and Angel at the grave sight that marks my brother's final resting place. The last bit of dirt is being thrown on top of his deceased form, finally, and a Reverend from London says a little prayer for his young soul. It has taken all of my willpower not to take my eyes off of the fresh grave. The heavy stream of tears that fall down my face do not cease in the slightest when we finish the small ceremony. It's not much, but it is enough for our family, whom have been through so much in the past year.

My newly deceased brother, Matthew, was only sixteen when he died of the lung disease that had covered nearly half the countryside. Hundreds died from it and hundreds still were affected by the sickness even if they did manage survive. My older twin sister Evangeline, or Angel as I call her, fell ill not long after Matthew did and barely managed to overcome the horrifying illness, but she has become fragile. I should think that Matthew's death has affected her the most though, out of all of us. They were very close.

We head indoors. It's a nice sized home, painted blue on the outside and a lot of wood-works on the inside. It feels empty now that Matthew is gone forever. My mother tells one of our servants, Agnes (the cook), to prepare dinner. But Mama retires to her room early, most likely to mourn my brother. My father stays outside and tells me to look after Evangeline, I nod in acknowledgment for I don't have the heart to speak.

I take Angel to our room where she rests on the bed. I hear her sigh and watch as she closes her eyes, but it doesn't help stop that tears as they leak beneath her eyelids. My own eyes feel rather dry, but watching as Angel greives alone breaks my already broken heart. We hold on to each other and cry ourselves to sleep, missing dinner. I am sure Agnes won't mind, though. She understands what we are going through since she had been brought to England on a slave ship from the plains of Africa nearly fifty years ago, and was sold to my grandfather at a young age. Grandfather freed her immediately but she was bound by duty anyway so she never left.

It is late evening when I wake. Angel is still asleep so I rise slowly, not disturbing her from her sleep. I would love to do the same but unfortunately I am in need of some fresh air. I can't open the windows because the cold air might chill Angel to the bone and get her sick again, even though the air is pleasantly warm out at the end of August. I slip her shoes off and her cap and place a blanket over her because I know she will sleep until the late hours of tomorrow morning. Her pale blond hair- the same as my own- is plastered slightly to her cheeks from the tears. I move the strands out of the way, leaving her face free. I leave the room and go outside afterwards. The gardens are lovely this time of year. The leaves of the trees are just starting to turn color but in some areas they already have. The late blooming flowers are basking in all their glory as the setting sun shines down on them for the last bit of the day, and the birds that are going to be getting ready to fly south are twittering away on their branches.

I sit down on one of the stone benches and sigh. How did everything end up so wrong in the world? First Agnes, then Matthew, and lastly Angel. They didn't deserve anything that happened to them. Agnes should be free with her people and her family, Matthew should have been allowed to live, and Angel should be allowed to do what she wants without the restrictions regarding her health. I am the only one who has not yet had harm come to me, and I feel very grateful about that fact.

I am about to head back inside when I hear a horse neigh very loudly. I turn my head quickly in the direction of it. The horse sounded like Altivo! A large black stallion, that is indeed my father's horse, comes running through the garden so fast that I stumble backwards- far too quickly- and I trip over the hem of my dress. I fall on my bottom with a grunt. The large beast races pass me fairly quickly, kicking up the green grass and dirt. The filth covers most of my front now. The rider makes the horse jump overtop of the tall fence surrounding the yard and I am left amazed at the agility of the animal and his rider.

I quickly follow them, intent on seeing what in the world is going on. Why was someone riding my father's prized stallion? Everyone single one of the servants know that Altivo is not to be ridden except by my father! I go through the gate that he had jumped over top of and find them at the stables. The rider is now off his horse and patting the animal's large back. The rider- who has a tri-cornered hat sitting upon his head- leads Altivo over to the water trough and lets him drink his fill while he himself splashes the cool liquid on his face. He takes off the hat to reveal a stunningly handsome face of black hair and dark eyes. My breath is nearly stolen from me but I regain my composure before he looks over to me and finally notices that there is in fact another person in the vicinity. He looks half startled and he stands up almost immediately and puts his hat back on. I could be kidnapped right now because there is the possibility of this man being a thief and a burglar. I don't really have a valid reason for doing this except that he is stealing.

I walk over immediately and plant my feet firmly on the ground, "What do you think you're doing with my father's horse? I will see to it that he has you hanged for this if you take another step!"

He raises an eyebrow, "Hanged for what? I'm doin' precisely as Murray has asked me to do." He shakes his head, clearly annoyed with me. His long and dark locks that reach his chin whip around in the wind beneath the hat, "So if you will excuse me, Miss…?" he pauses for me to say my name.

I stare at him for half a moment before shaking my head. I am not to tell a stranger my name. And what did he mean that he was doing what Father asked him to? Then a thought came to my mind. Father had told us not too long ago that he hired a farmhand to do the work that Matthew couldn't do. Maybe this is him? I haven't met him yet because I had been so busy taking care of my siblings to even bother seeking out anyone's company. I bite my lip, not even bothering to answer his inquiry, "Y-you wouldn't…" I lower my head in shame, "You wouldn't happen to be the new farmhand, would you?" I hope he isn't because then I will look like a fool. I take a glance at him just as he whips his hat off again and nods to me.

"Antonio Teach, at your service" he gives me a look with pursed lips, he is feeling just as awkward as myself. I shuffle my feet in uncertainty, he speaks again, "I am sorry for disturbing a lady of the house. You must accept my apologies for ruining your lovely garden. I did the same a few weeks ago with my own horse so I offered my services to Sir Murray in compensation for it." We're both silent after that, so he takes Altivo by the reigns and leads him to the stable doors.

"Wait!" I call. I shall have to tell Angel of him later tonight, "My name is Danielle. Danielle Murray." He gives me another nod.

"A pleasure, My Lady," his words almost seem forced, like they are not natural, recently taught too. I look at him, up and down. He wears a maroon shirt that is slightly fading into a greyish red, with brown breeches, boots, and a leather vest. He is a bit scruffy looking and is probably younger than he looks but I can't help but notice that he is definitely not highborn. His origins make him look very much like a spaniard.

"You are poor, correct?" he looks at me funny, I laugh nervously, "I am terribly sorry, that was incredibly rude. My apologies. What I meant to say is that you are not very well-off."

He smiles slightly and shakes his head, "No. What gave it away? The clothes or my manners?"

"Both, perhaps…" I trail off, it is rude to stare but I cannot help it. He is very easy on the eyes. He must feel uncomfortable because he clears his throat and nods to me.

"Miss," and then left in a hurry. I understand if it may have been awkward, standing there with a woman eyeing you with preying eyes. That was definitely an awkward, at best. At worst...I don't really want to think of that. I'm embarrassed enough, seeing as I practically called him a thief.

I walk away quickly, going back to my room to change out of this dirty dress. Agnes saved me some dinner so I take it in my room after I have redressed. My thoughts drift back to the new farmhand, his dark eyes creeping into my vision. Antonio, was his name, I believe. He must be what? Nineteen at the very least, maybe twenty. I can only imagine what Angel shall say of him when she wakes. Most likely about how I deserve to find someone. After her Fredrick died from the sickness, she has been grooming me in her small ways to make me find a gentleman caller. She may be older, but only by a few minutes. I don't see why she wants to take control of my life. Besides, part of me never wants to get married, seeing as Angel's relationship turned out so well. I shake my head at my sarcasm. I can be quite dull in my wit that sometimes I even amuse myself with my stupidity.

If I do happen to find that special someone, I don't want it to be an instant proposal of marriage like with most relationships have been. I would like to get to know the person first, become friends. You don't always have to go out with the man that you befriend, so if we decide it isn't worth courting, we won't. Simple as that.

I fall asleep that night dreaming of full moons and gold bells.

*****NextDay*****

The next morning, when I wake, I make sure to get Angel up as well. We dress (in black, depressingly), eat breakfast and then take our morning stroll in the gardens. I see the torn up grass and remember about Antonio. I know my face must have given away something because she asks me immediately what is going on in my mind. I wrap my arm tighter in our linked limbs, "Nothing. Just the kicked up dirt reminded me of someone I met yesterday."

She frowns, "Yesterday? But we did not go anywhere. The only visitor we had was the Reverend, and he is certainly not young enough for you to be having that little girl, ogle-eyed, starstruck look on your face," she tells me, I smile at the amusement in her tone and shake my head, "Tell me, who is he? Who is it that has caught my dear twin's eye?"

I scoff, "He hardly caught my eye. I barely know him, for goodness sakes, Angel. But, he works for father now, since Matthew is…" we are silent for a few minutes, I should not have brought up the subject. But we pull ourselves together and Angel somehow directs the subject back to me telling of Antonio. I describe him for her, and she chatters on quietly about spaniards. I wonder where he is. Normal farmhands would be working from dawn till sundown. I know for a fact that it is well past dawn. I think I may have scared him off with my staring yesterday, he sort of left in a hurry.

"He sounds quite handsome," Angel says with a faraway look in her eye. She lost her lover to the sickness that took our brother, this is yet another sore subject that I have oh so gracefully led us to, she snaps out of it a few seconds later though and looks at me curiously, "But I have yet to hear his name..." she gives me a pointed look, "Or do you have an infatuation with a nameless face, however handsome it may be?"

I smile and look down, that was probably the first thing I should have said, "His name is Antonio. He was riding Altivo when I first saw him. They nearly ran me over since they were going so fast," she listens as I speak, we are both starved for a good story, "Then he made Altivo jump over the white gate over there," I pointed to it and her eyes widened, "I am serious about all of this, Angel. None of it is embellished, I promise."

"Yes, but," she said, "Sometimes, your promises don't always hold true to your word," she lifted an eyebrow. I shake my head.

"Not true, when have I ever lied to you?"

"That time when we were about seven and you said Father was getting us each a pony for our birthday. It turns out it was a pair of knitting needles and a bag of yarn for each. I don't think I was ever so disappointed in my life," she remarked, we walked in silence before I told her that father had said something about ponies and then 'each of them' so I had figured that he meant that the ponies were for Angel and I.

We are silent once more before we decide to head back to the house, she looks at me when I help her up the porch stairs, "I want to make a bet with you." I give her a look, though she is fragile she is still the same in some ways.

"Women are not allowed to gamble," I tell her, "You know that."

"Yes, but!" she holds up a finger, "We are technically not women until we are married so we still have about a year or two left until said time ."

"That is probably the most immature thing you have ever said, Angel," I pause, "And that's saying something because as I recall I was always the most mature out of the two of us when we were but little girls dreaming."

"Yes okay, I see your point, but will you just listened to what I have to say?" I nod, "Alright, I want to try an experiment with you and that Anthony man."

"Antonio."

"What?"

"His name is Antonio, not Anthony."

Her eyes sparkled and playful grin crossed her face, "See! You're already correcting me of his name! You are definitely meant to be as of now."

"Angel…" I warn, "Stop, please! I don't believe he even likes me. He sort of ran away after he caught me staring." She gives me a blank look.

"Fine, I won't gamble. But if anything does happen between the two of you, I still want credit for setting you two up." I nod and we say nothing more of it for the rest of the day. It is a week later, after the respected mourning time for my brother is over, that I see Antonio. Perhaps he only stayed away was out of respectfulness of my family's grieving period. He is in the barn shoveling mounds of hay with a pitchfork for the horses when I find him. I watch him silently from afar, not wanting to disturb him from his work. For the rest of the day, I stay up in my room that I share with Angel, it overlooks the stable and riding grounds. I see him giving the horses their daily exercise. That's when he does something I did not expect, which causes me to flush and close the drapes immediately.

He had taken his shirt off. From what I did see he was very toned and tan from long hours of hard work and being in the sun. The image will be forever ingrained in my mind.

I keep watching him for another whole week, that would be two weeks since I last spoke with him so I now believe it is finally time to advance. I know it seems unsettling of me to have been spying on him for so long without him knowing but I could not help it. I blame it on the emotions that come with being a female. We are attracted to men that are very handsome, at least to most. Some actually like the larger and rounder men. I myself prefer tall men.

It is in the evening, fifteen days since we met, that I approached him. He was finished work and on my way to see my father. I get to father first and ask him that since Antonio has been working so hard that we should invite him to dine with us one night this week.

"And how, my dear, do you know Mister Teach?" he asked me. I explain to him about the day of Matthew's funeral.

"I had not thought about the mourning period until after I had spoken to him. I know I shouldn't have and it was against tradition,," I look at him again, "But I think it would do us some good to socialize after all these sad days. Some people might start calling us unsociable if we ignore them." I may have said too much. My mouth seems to be running away a lot lately.

Father thinks this over then gives me a sharp look, "I can see where you are going with this, Danielle. I will tell you that I do not like it that you are pinning after a poor man. But as the superior of Mister Teach I will extend an invitation for him to join us for dinner three nights from now. But until then you will not be allowed to interact with him until I give my consent. Am I clear?" he was annoyed now, I can tell by the small vein on his right temple showing through the tissue.

"Yes, Father," I agree reluctantly. I do not want to stay away from him but I guess behaving more like a lady might actually get his attention. But the question I keep coming back to is why am I so obsessed with trying to make Antonio like me? I get it, I fancy him, and normal procedure would be to approach him and determine if he fancies you as well.

I will do just that.

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><p><strong> I know you people might seem a bit iffy on Danielle Murray, I was too when I went back and reread this, but I promise that some character development will happen for her. Just remember that Danielle isn't a kickbutt kind of person. Also, my skills to bring to life the black pearls crew might be iffy too because I don't swear, nor shall I put swearing in my writing. if you people don't like that then get out of here, because this just isn't for you. I hope you'll stick around for further updates, it would also please me greatly if you were to leave a review. Criticism will only be tolerated if it is constructive and will better improve my writing skills. Thank you.<strong>

**R&R, till then**

**KG1!~ **


	2. Chapter 2: Cold

_In Between the Essence_

**Replies: **

**Viimaa:** I'm a bit iffy on the beginning, but I like it more as it goes on. I hope you will like it too! :)

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><p><strong>So...I may have accidentally posted the wrong chapter (and fandom) in the previous chapter. But I fixed it all up and it's good now. I hope you've realized this and you're reading this now...or I'm just talking to myself...<strong>

**Anyways, continue on reading...**

**Enjoy! :D**

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><p><strong>-Chapter 2- Cold<strong>

**Antonio's POV**

Living an honest life isn't so bad, seriously. It's hard for someone to admit that when they've lived more than half their lives as a pirate. But I came to London hoping to escape from all that I have done, seen, and lost. Especially lost. My father is an infamous pirate, but because of him I lost everything that I once cared about to his mistakes and general stupidity. So I packed up all my belongings (which isn't very much, may I add) and set sail one last time for Europe. It took about a month to get here, and then another whole week to London, but it was well worth it, to forget my troubles and transgressions.

Once I arrived in the bustling capitol city, I found work rather quickly as a blacksmith's apprentice but didn't stay there for too long because I can't make a sword to save my life. But I am rather good at handling one if I do say so myself. With the bit of money I had earned from my short-term job, I bought a horse and wandered throughout the country and to the other surrounding ones. I particularly enjoyed living in Ireland, seeing as the soothing misty air in the mountains brought me comfort that there was something else greater out there than just the vast ocean. Mountains could go from the smallest hill to the highest peak, whereas the ocean (though ever changing) was constant in what it looked like.

I lived in Ireland for a year before heading on to France but found nothing but sickness and death there. I passed through and on to Germany. I lived there for six or seven months (I can't really remember because I spent a lot of times drinking their very fine ale) before coming back here to England. I don't know why, I could have easily settled in Ireland or Scotland but I kept feeling this pull, to come back to my roots (though half of my roots come from Spain). When someone mistook me for a thief that had recently stolen his entire life-savings, I ran to the countryside and through many fields and such before I tore up a very well off farmer's land, for which I had to compensate for in offering my services to him. If there is one thing my mother taught me other than to never break a woman's heart, it was to never leave a debt unpaid. It would come back to bite you in the be-hind before you even had a chance to spell a really long word...or something. I had never really learned to read in my years as a pirate. I learned the simple words like what 'yes' and 'no' look like or other simpler words but that would be about it.

So far Sir Murray has been tolerant towards me, but his daughter is a different story. I spoke with her a few weeks ago and she has been watching me from afar ever since. I think she thinks that I don't know that she's been staring at me. I definitely don't want to get mixed up with women ever again, once or twice was enough.

Danielle, she said her name is, is beautiful I'll give her that but I am just not the type of man that women should be pinning after. I was a pirate, a carouser at one point. No woman deserves that kind of man. I know she fancies me because she's got that same look in her eyes that every other woman in Tortuga, or any other place I've been to, gives me. I don't know how my father ever got tied down to one woman, my mother, but that was after years and years of being a parrandero. I am not going to be like him, ever. He is a pirate, and I am trying to make an honest living. I haven't yet figured out what Gibbs' sees in him to stick around being the fallback plan if something goes awry. The two are thick as thieves (just not in that way, seeing as Gibbs is a man.)

Jack Sparrow, that's the name of the man who sired me. But he'll never be my father. It's all his fault that she is dead. It was his lust for immortality that drove him mad enough to drive through the storm that blew us off course and into the unknown waters of Mystic Cove. I still hear the screams and shouts of terror as the supposedly fabled ghost ship attacked ours and blew it apart. We barely got out of there alive with the Black Pearl intact. My girl, the one that died, had been shot twice in her heart before she fell overboard and into the dark and shadowy depths of the sea. No one could have survive what she had gone through before she finally died. The last we spoke we had argued and if I could wish for anything, I would wish that our last moments together could have been spent in the peaceful bliss

After finishing in the stables, I take a small scythe and some other cutting tools and work my way out to the wheat fields where I have to cut down and early matured stalks. It's a hot and hard process and going through each sections that are separated and taking out the full grown wheat, but it will get in some early trading for Sir Murray and if I've done a good enough job then I will be allowed to have fifteen percent of the profit that the wheat will make. I could definitely use more money. What I am living on now is not very much at all.

I am out there for a good three hours, just past noon when I look up at one point and see a dark negro woman working her way out towards me. I raise my hand, telling her to stop. I go to her instead. Once I reach her I wipe my sweat dampened hair from my face and squint in the sunlight (which I have been doing all afternoon so far.) She looks me up and down with calculating eyes. She is an older lady, with servants clothing on, a slightly stained apron is around her waist so I assume she is the cook.

"'De masta' be expectin' you for dinnah in three days time. You best be dere' on time. Da' masta' not like waitin'." her accent is heavy but I can understand her well enough to know that Sir Murray is wanting me to dine with him and his family in three would he do such a thing? I have done nothing to be rewarded with having a fine dinner- Wait! I bet Miss Danielle asked her father if I could come. That girl is persistent, most definitely persistent. I have to tell her that I am not interested, or risk breaking her heart even harder if I were to get heavily involved.

I know I cannot refuse an invitation from my master (temporarily of course, he is.) I nod to the cook," I'll be there," then I stop for a moment, "What is your name by the way? I don't think I caught it." She looks slightly annoyed by this but she answers anyway.

"It be Agnes, yo'ng man," she pauses, "An' what might yo' name be?"

"Antonio," I tell her and extend my hand. She shakes it before picking up her skirts and leaving. I watch her retreating form with a passing glance before continuing on with my work.

***Later***

Standing in the small house I rent just outside of London, I look at myself in the cracked mirror in the hallway. I look like my father in facial features but my olive toned skin and hazel eyes are all my mother. I definitely don't get my rich dark brown hair from either of my parents because they have lighter tones. What I would give to talk to her once more. She was my mother after all. Jack on the other hand I can go without speaking to for the rest of my life.

I shake my head and cleared my thoughts. I don't need depressing things going through my mind right now. Instead I go and bathe before going out to the city. It was still very lively at night, the taverns and such being open all day every day. After entering, I sat down by the bar, a few women came up to me and flounced about but I just ignore them entirely. The only thing I really did do was throw a few coins in their direction to get them to stop bothering me. I left the seedy tavern after ordering a small case of rum, completed with a mug. Sitting on the front step of my house I drank the rum merrily. If there was something other than the facial features I got from Jack Sparrow, it was his love of rum and other assorted alcohols, especially wine. Wine was just positively delicious. When I was in France I had tasted many a good wine even though I didn't stay long, now I wish they had such good tasting beverages in England. I know I should stop drinking or I will end up like Jack but just for tonight I indulge myself a bit. By the middle of the night I am dead drunk as I stumble into bed. It's soft...so...soft.

I wake before sunrise with a splitting headache, not quite remembering what I did to make it that way. A hangover, that's what this is and I absolutely hate myself for drinking so much last night but that would be my last night of overindulgence of liquor. I blame Jack for this, I blame him for Lumina's death, I blame him for my mother's painful passing, and I even blame him for even being my father. He is dead to me. Dead. I know I am only thinking these thoughts because my mind is terribly fuzzy and I can't think straight but half of what I am thinking is true. It is his fault that my girl died.

It is at this point I realize why I made myself drunk last night. It is a habit I make of myself once every year on that day, August 29th. It is the day my girl was shot dead and fell into the dark water, drowning.

I realize with a startling thought that I am drowning also.

But instead of drowning in water, I am drowning in sorrow. The only way I'll ever be able to get over this is if I...no! I am not letting go of her. We made a promise that we would never forget each other if something happened to the other. I will not break that promise, not now, not ever. My eyes drift to the beaten up guitar in the corner of my room. I haven't played it since she died and I don't intend to ever again, just like my promise. I have many memories dealing with that instrument and I am not about to go and spoil those images.

Two Days pass quickly and in my own sorrow I completely forget about the dinner I am supposed to attend. When Agnes reminds a half hour before I am to arrive I quickly go over to the water trough and wash myself off. I can't believe I forgot already. Sometimes it's just ridiculous how my mind works. After washing off as much sweat as I could, I rub some sweet smelling flowers over me. The flowers are crushed but at least I don't smell so much of body odor now. I just hope it's enough to mask enough of the smell. I rise and go to the house when I see the sun starting to sink low. Years at sea are good for something I suppose, being able to tell the time of day and all.

Agnes meets me at the door and looks me up and down as she had a few days ago and rolls her eyes, "Yo' fegget aboot tanight, dinnint yo'?" she asked, I nod sheepishly and she gestures f0r me to come in, "I not bein' able to do anytin' aboot that but yo' could haf' dressed bettah." She continues to derate my clothing and my memory as we walk to the dining hall. The house is surprisingly big for being a farm house. These people must be very well off if they have such a big house. That last large house I had been in was...I can't think about that right now. Later, but not now.

She stops ranting when we reach the doors to the dining room. It isn't as grand as some I have seen but it is still better than what I have seen in years. I check my clothes and notice that the sweat that had drenched them before has now dried on it. The flowers I rubbed on me aren't doing anything to fix the smell on me right now but I guess it's doing something good enough since I haven't heard any complaints form Agnes about my smell. Or maybe her sense of smell has diminished with her age. She goes and opens the door, the family stands up and watch us as Agnes pushed me forward, "Enjoy yo' dinnah, Mastas' and mistresses," then closes the doors and leaves. I look at the family and Sir Murray gestures to a chair on the side closest to me.

There are six chairs but two are empty. At the head of the table sits Sir Murray, to his left a woman (Who I suspect is his wife) sits. Beside her is an empty chair which I am being told to sit at. I stand in front of it and then wait for them to sit before I do. Across from me is a young woman whom I know is Miss Danielle light blond hair has been done up in a bun but there is still some hair cascading down. Beside her and to Sir Murray's right is another young woman who looks almost identical to Danielle but their eyes aren't the same color.

I grimace internally. They're all so dressed up compared to me. Sir Murray begins eating firs, after giving thanks for the food, followed by Lady Murray and then the girls. I am to begin eating last, seeing as I am the guest. It is delicious beyond anything I have ever eaten and I hope I have not yet made a fool of myself which I probably did when I walked through that door. My clothes smell like a barn and I probably look like one too. No wonder Agnes was so disapproving of my appearance.

Sir Murray clears his throat and speaks after having a drink from the pale red liquid in front of him, "Mister Teach-"

"Actually, Antonio is just fine," I see his annoyed face and realize what I just did. I grimace, "I'm sorry. Sir!" I hold my hand up in an apology, I fake cough and then nod, "Continue, please." He gives me a look, then a quick glance at one of the girls that I have no use looking at right now, and then back at me as he continues speaking.

"Mister Teach," he makes an effort to put emphasis on my surname, I don't think he's pleased with me, "I have been informed that you met my daughter, Danielle, in the gardens the other week during our time of mourning," he certainly isn't pleased with me, "I find it highly insulting that you would socialize yourself with a grieving family. It will not happen again, will it?" he is stern, but that reminds me a lot of Grandpapa Teague. Fond memories go through my mind as I answer with a polite smile.

"No, Sir," I cut a piece of my meat, I will do as I did to my grandfather the first time we met, be as smart as I can, "But I doubt I will have a reason to do so anytime soon, seeing as your beautiful family," giving a wink to Danielle, though I regret doing so immediately after, "Are perfectly healthy," I eat a piece of meat and stare at him expectantly. He stares back at me with a lot of vehemence.

"I do not tolerate smart-mouths, Mister Teach, and I certainly do not appreciate you floundering about my daughter like some misshapen perverted boy," he picks up his drink without breaking eye contact, "I will not have my daughter subjected to living such a low life in society."

"I assure you," I give him a nod, "that I am not the one that would subject to that. No freedom will give them no experience on what the world is really like. And I will tell you that the world is cruel," I look at his daughters when I say this. I will most likely get fired for saying this, but he is questioning my honor when it is his to be questioned.

I leave without being dismissed.

***TwentyMinutesLater***

I didn't bother leaving the estate because I knew that I would have to go in an apologize eventually. I have more honor than that. There is a lot making me think about my past lately. I guess that is what was calling me back here two months ago from my beautiful mountains. I have yet to confront my past. That is what scares me the most, I do not have the courage nor the trust of anyone to help me through it. Usually in these situations I would go to Ma', but ever since she died five years ago when I was fourteen I have had no one. My father wasn't much use for anything except making me a pirate which is what I thought I wanted at first. But when I first killed a man my outlook on it changed for good. Two years ago I would have laughed at myself for what I have become. I sniveling coward who can't even hold his liquor.

I laugh out loud at myself anyway as I walk to the gazebo not far from the stables. If only my friends could see me now. Pintel and Ragetti would have clopped me on the head for being such a simpleton and not going after what I want. Gibbs would have sat me down and tried to convince me of doing something different with my life. Marty and I were always a little awkward so we ignored each other. Cotton would have to be my favorite, because one look could tell all I needed to know. His parrot was just annoying.

Now Jack. Jack would have said something totally confusing to me in his drunken way and then left me to myself to figure out what he said. Usually I could figure it out but sometimes I was just left with a messed up mind full of unsolvable puzzles, then I would take a nap in the crows nest and sleep off my puzzlement. Which I fully intend to do when I get back home. That's when I see a light flash in the corner of my eye and turn around quickly. Danielle is walking out towards me with a candle in hand. The wax is only just starting to drip down the sides. She comes up beside me and sets the candle holder down, it flickers in the wind.

"I'm sorry about my father," she says quietly, "He is always that way when he meets someone new."

"If you don't remember, he hired me himself," I mutter, "We've already met."

I know I caught her and she looks down in embarrassment but then looks back up at me, "I remember now." I don't respond to her attempts to flirt with me, I don't need this and I need to make it clear to her that I am not interested in a relationship. I take her hand and look her in the eye.

"Look, Miss Murray, I-"

"Please, just call me Danielle."

"I'd rather not," I tell her and then continue, "I know what you're trying to do, and I've seen how many other women do it too. But I have to tell you, I'm not interested in a relationship, at all," I release her hands and turn away, I tense slightly when I feel eyes on me- and it's not her- "I've been through enough to know that they're only trouble." I leave her standing there without even finding out how she is going to react. I walk passed the front porch to get my horse from the stables, but then notice a figure standing there. Sir Murray is watching me, I feel infinitely uncomfortable. He gestures for me to come to him. I do because I know where this is going and I want to get this over with a soon as possible. I can't walk away from it this time. I walk up the steps and then stand in front of him with my head bowed, "I know why I am here, Sir, and I want to apologize for my behavior tonight. It was disgraceful on my part and I do not deserve to work here anymore," come on, work it in nice and slow, "Though, your daughter may say otherwise, I'm not in any way interested in pursuing here. Told her that..."

I'm silent, letting it sink in. He doesn't say a word and I don't look up to see his expression. Which is why I'm taken by surprised with his next words. "I like you, son."

Confusion is clear on my face as I lift my head abruptly, "Pardon?"

"I mean," he clears his throat, "I like your spirit. Reminds me a lot about myself, actually, when I was your age," my eyebrows furrow, "I will admit that I was a bit aghast that someone would say those things to me but I now understand how everyone else feels when I say it to them. What I am trying to say is, is that you are right," he shuffles his feet, "I haven't been the best father or the greatest man that I could be. I have been rude, selfish, and a bit arrogant in my life."

"Sir, I do believe that it is a bit early to be comparing me to yourself. I've barely been working here for three weeks, one of which I wasn't even here for," I tell him. I feel awkward right now. I've never liked having these conversations with people who are older than me. Except Will, he's a great person to talk to.

"I realize that," He continues, "and I also realize you still have much to prove to me that you are worthy to be apart of my household, as staff of course, nothing more." He adds the last bit more tensely than what he should have.

I nodded warily, "Thanks," came my sarcastic remark, he doesn't seem to notice because he pats my shoulder.

"Goodnight, Mister Teach," he goes back inside and I am left standing there in complete bewilderment. What exactly just happened?

I feel the eyes on me again as I leave the estate. By the time I actually do get back to my place, I don't feel someone watching me anymore, but I do feel another presence in the room. I go over to my bed and take out the pistol that I keep hidden under there. If anyone is looking for me, they are probably as sure as heck not friendly. I keep the pistol behind my back as I walk through the house. It's dark, seeing as I haven't lit a candle or a lantern yet but I can manage with just my instincts. I then feel lights flashing in my head, telling me someone is behind me. I whip around and cock the pistol. The person is someone I didn't expect or want to see ever again.

Jack Sparrow.

"It's Captain, savvy," I didn't realize I had said his name out loud, "Captain Jack Sparrow, aye Gibbs?"

"Aye, Cap'n," I hear another voice that is indefinitely Jack's first mate, I turn around to see the scruffy sailor-turned-pirate. What in the blazes are they doing in my house!? I throw a glare at Jack who just continues to lean against a window like he doesn't have a care at all. But I lived with him long enough to know that whenever he does that he actually is worried about something. He grins at me while I keep giving him a look. His smile fades when he realizes I'm not going to break. He walks over to me and puts his middle and index fingers into the hole where the bullet would come out of.

"I know ye still mad at me for that...time...sometime...ago? But I promised you that I'd make it up," tells me and ends with another smile. I shake my head and lower my pistol, Jack glances at Gibbs for a moment before looking at me again. I practically spit in his face.

"What in the world makes you think I would ever trust you again, Jack?"

"What's all this Jack business about? I thought I was your Da'."

"You lost that right a long time ago," I look back at Gibbs, "I thought I made you promise to make sure he never shows his face around me ever again?" He looks a little guilty, "Pirates these days...can't trust them," I mutter under my breath.

"Who said that ya' ever should?"

I look at Jack again, "I thought it was you who once said that you can always trust those who are dishonest?"

"Yes, but I also said that you can always trust the dishonest to be, well, dishonest."

"I know…" I growl, I wasn't meaning for him to answer my muttering, "Just, get out, now. Both of you!"

Jack shook his head at me, "You know, I said sorry for that whole ordeal, aye Savvy?" I don't answer just stare him down. He sighs dramatically, "Fine, you can be the big ol' sourpus while I'll be havin' a drink or two in London while dancing with a Dame...with a potato sack draped over my head. Gibbs!"

"Cap'n?"

"We take our leave."

"Aye." And they walked out the front door, leaving me standing there. A potato sack? Really. Sometimes I don't believe he is entirely right in the head. Actually, I know he isn't all right in the head.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm honestly terrible at getting Jack spot on. It's so incredibly hard!<strong>

**I hope you liked this second ****instalment of IBtE. I personally like Antonio a lot because he may look somewhat like Jack, but he has Angelica's attitude. If you're confused about anything, please PM or review your questions and I will be able to _hopefully_ answer them in full. **

**R&R till then,**

**KG1!~**


	3. Chapter 3: Rain

_In Between the Essence_

**This chapter is a bit dramatic, so be prepared for some fighting and a teeny-tiny bit of violence. i'm not quite sure about this chapter being very good but ENJOY it anyway :)**

**-Chapter 3- Rain**

**Danielle's POV**

After he left me standing there in the gazebo, tears welled up in my eyes. How could he just reject me like that? I know I am probably over reacting but it still hurt! I still fancy him no matter what he just said, and I am grateful that he warned me instead of just using me. But, I guess maybe Father was right, pinning after someone who doesn't even want you is useless. 'Angel will be happy to know that not even a worthless farmhand doesn't even want me' came the bitter thought. No. I can't blame all of this on Angel, it's my own fault for believing such lies and such. I will probably be over this by morning. My and Angel's birthday as a week and half from now so at least I have something to look to.

I wipe my moist eyes with the sleeve of my dress quickly, then walk fast back to the house. I pass father on the way in but ignore him, only giving him a single solitary glance before opening the door and shutting it hard behind me. I don't know why I am mad at him. I have no reason to be, but he had no reason to go and pick apart Anto- Mister Teach like that. I need to correct myself on things like that now. Matthew had once said to me when we were children that I would never catch a man if I played around in the dirt. He was right. But what he didn't know was that the man I had been after also played around in the dirt. I miss Matthew. I could use a witty remark about my very feeble attempts at wooing someone.

When Mister Teach told me that he had been through enough relationships to know that they're only trouble, what had he meant by that? Sure;y it must mean that he has a broken heart. Now I feel foolish. Father was right, there was no good pinning after a poor and hopeless man. Angel shall be disappointed that I have given up so early in the game but she can keep her annoying opinions to herself. He is a farm boy, and I am a lady of the household. I shall not stoop so low as to cry over a penniless (but still uncannily handsome) man.

I sleep the night away in peaceful bliss.

In the morning I do not speak of the night before, much to the dismay of Angel. I can tell that she is wanting details but if something is to be forgotten, it must not be spoken of. Mama told me that when I was a little girl and I had torn my favorite doll's dress. We threw it away but that did not stop my sadness. A week later she told me that some things were not to be forgotten, but others had to be let go so that we may continue on with our lives. I agree wholeheartedly. Perhaps I am in denial that I have been denied something I want, which has never happened. I may sound selfish and spoiled but it is true. Some things I have been denied to but most I get. Same as is with my sister, and brother...or at least had been with my brother.

It's starts raining in the late morning, but it does not hinder me from going about my daily chores of helping Agnes freshen up the house. When I go past the archway to the parlor I have a pretty thought. When Angel and I finally turn eighteen we shall be allowed into the beautiful room with the large wooden, but shiny and smooth, pianoforte. Though we do not live as city women, Angel and I have been taught to play the pianoforte. We have another one, not so fancy mind you, up in the sitting room connected to the bedchambers that my twin and I share. I have wanted to play the pianoforte in the parlor since I was a little girl just learning how. In a week I shall have that privilege to show my skills on it. The room is rather large so there shall be dancing, I won't want to be on the forte for long when the dancing starts.

I move to go read in the shared sitting room upstairs. I sit on the window seat, staring outside at the rain as it hits the glass, creating droplets on the smooth surface. The rain does nothing to let me concentrate on the open book in my hands. Angel keeps glancing at me over top of her own book, and finally (after two hours of silence) breaks the serenity of my reverie, "What is with you?" she sounds accusing.

"What is the matter, Sister?" I ask, not even looking away from the droplets on the window that I lean against.

"This! This is what's wrong!" she gestures wildly with her hands at me, "Your attitude about yesterday's dinner! For two weeks you have thought or spoke of nothing else but that Antonio. Why the sudden change of heart towards him? You act like he doesn't exists." I just turn my head towards her and stare with a bored expression.

"Father was right that I shouldn't be pinning after some worthless farm-boy. We are to be turning eighteen within the week and we need to stop going after such childish fantasies!" I shout the last bit as I stand up, "I would have thought you learned that with Frederick's death."

She shakily rose, her own rage mustering inside her, "You will not speak of my beloved in such a poor fashion."

"Like you spoke of Matthew, when he went on all of his wanderings," I say quietly, but a glare as settled on my face. Tears come to her eyes.

"I may not have approved of all of our brother's activities, but at least I loved him a whole lot more than you did, Danielle," She put her book down on her chair and walked towards me, "That is your problem. When you can't have something, you scream and cry and then you act that it doesn't matter to you at all, " her lip is quivering as tears start rolling down her face, she is mad in her rage. I feel my own tears well up, "You are cold, and heartless, and care about nothing but yourself and your own wants. I have put up with it all of these years but I won't stand for it any longer," she picks up her book to leave the room, the tears now thick, "If you can't change that, then you can forget about me ever calling you my sister ever again."

"I don't need you anyways!" I burst, she stops for a moment from leaving the room. tears start rolling down my own face, "I never have! When you got sick it was I who held this family together, so I am stronger and more reliable than you and your flittering ways could ever be! You are the selfish one to think that I only care about myself when I had to stand by and watch as my brother and my self-preserving, selfish, witch of a twin wasted away like wind-blown rocks!."

I didn't see what was coming next and was even more surprised when it happened. She marched over to me and slapped right across my left cheekbone. It was hard enough that I head was flung sideways. I gripped the red mark, that is surely there, with both hands and stared at her. She seemed to have shocked herself because she starts apologizing. I don't listen to her as I run from the room. I hear sobs behind me but ignore them when I quickly leave the house into the pouring rain. I go back inside only long enough to grab my coat before heading out into the downpour again. The first horse I see when I reach the barn is a large brown one. He is already saddled so I grip the bridle and haul myself up.

I slap the reigns which makes him race from the stables like lightning.

The cloak I am wearing does little to keep me from getting soaked, but it does better than I would have if I had gone without it. I am cold but it does nothing to numb the feeling of Angel's hand swiping across my cheek again and again in my memory. I sob as I ride for the city of London. Perhaps I shall be more wanted there where I am not such a burden to my family and those around me. I get what she is saying when she says I am selfish. I cannot see past my own wants half the time and I pay dearly for it. I do not think returning is my best option. If they don't want me, then I will not stay.

I remember that I had seen someone watching me as I left the estate. Someone holding a single lantern for light in the cloudy and unusually dark day. I ignore the person and continue on, pushing the beast I ride even faster. I ride for hours, for London is exactly one hundred and twenty minutes away (which makes two hours). My bottom hurts by the time I get there and I am tired, drenched, and cold beyond measure. I do not know where to go in the streets that are I go to the nearest shelter which happens to be a tavern that isn't very clean may I add. All of kinds of unseemly characters linger about, loitering around tables with cards on the surface and shot glasses in their hands. A lively band played in the background and men and women alike flapped around like drunken pelicans as if they were dancing to the music. People passed me and men gave me hungry looks but I ignored them and continued on in towards the back where there was a counter, no doubt for renting rooms.

I keep the soaked hood of my cloak up as I approach the counter where a rusted bell sat waiting to be rung. I didn't have to because a woman who was hardly wearing anything was standing there with another man and woman talking away with mugs of beer in their hands. I don't understand how anyone can drink such vile beverages on a whim. I clear my throat, hoping to catch her attention. It barely shifts from her counterparts to me before she carries on again. I grow impatient from her impertinence. I ring the bell and a few people from the tables around look at me with an irritated glance. I bite my lip and lower my head in embarrassment. they continue on with their business but I finally get the attention of the woman behind the desk. She puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows.

"Yes?" she asks, "What do you want?"

"I would like to rent a room for the night, if you please," I answer politely. She lets out a loud laugh but it mixes with the loud noises in the background.

"Sorry, sweet cheeks, but we're full-up," she smirks, "Maybe if you ask nicely, one of those fine gentlemen over there will let you share their bed," she bats her eyelashes at them then looks at me again, "Of course you'll have to give them a little...action for it."

I turn away from her, disturbed and disgusted by her. I sit at one of the back tables alone, hoping not to draw attention. No one pays me any mind until I see two men get up from a corner in the room and approach me. I don't feel very comfortable as they look at me in a certain way. I get up to leave but just as i get to the entrance, they grip me on both my arms and lead me out. I pull against their grip but it doesn't do anything, "Let go of me, you filthy creeps!" I yell at them and struggle even harder. they just laugh and bring me into the alley way beside the tavern. It is a filthy mess in the alley and I get the feeling that we aren't back here for a pleasant conversation.

They push to the muddy ground, the rain making me slick with water so I trip and land face first. They laugh loudly at my misfortune. I pull myself up onto my elbows and turn around on my back. Why did I leave the house again? As they come towards me, still laughing to themselves, I scramble away from them but make myself even dirtier in the process. They pick me up by my arms and lift me up from the ground so my feet cannot touch it. I kick the air trying to get my feet back on the ground. One of them grabs me fully and pushes me against the stone wall of the tavern. I gather up a lot of spit in my mouth and spit on him, making it land right in his eye. He curses loudly and lets me go. I slump against the wall, getting worn out from this. I am not used to such excursion. Before I can get away though, the man I spat on grabs me by the collar of my dress and hoist me up against the wall again, I claw at his hand.

"Quite the feisty one we got here, ain't that right, Bo?" he asks his companion, who grins. I see that he is missing the top row of his teeth. He laughs dumbly as he nods his head. I squirm under their scrutiny as they look at me with strange hunger I have not seen before. I know what they intend to do to me, I cannot let that happen. The one holding me speaks again, "We'll just have to teach her a couple of manners before we have our way with 'er." He punches me right across my face. right where Angel hit me, except harder than a slap. A cut opens up on my cheek and starts to bleed. My eye is bruising as we speak. he throws me to the ground again and I grunt from the impact.

I can't think of anything else to do so I just scream as loud as I can, calling for help from anyone that will come. I carry on with this until one of the burly men clamp their hand over my mouth. I move my head from side to side trying to get it out enough to bite him. I succeed and grip my teeth hard on to the calloused flesh. He pulls back and growls at me, hitting me across my face again, this time making a cut open on my lip. Blood dribbles down my chin. I quickly get up, my wet and dirty dress making it hard for me to do so but I get up and run for the alley's entrance. The man's friend grabbed, seeing as he was just standing there watching the other man do what he wanted. I turn around and hit him in the face, hard. once again he lets go of me and I make a break for the outside. I succeed this time and start screaming for help as I run along the street. I look behind me and see that the two men have run from me, probably not wanting to get caught by the city's patrols.

No one comes for me, so I go back to the tavern and find my horse still there. I cannot return home tonight, since it is still raining and I would rather not catch my death of a cold. I lead the horse to the nearest stables and ask if I may stay with my horse. the stable boy is hesitant but he agrees and allows me into the stall. The horse lies down to sleep himself and I lay my head on his torso. I fade away into a dream in minutes.

The rain has stopped in the morning but it is still slightly drizzling out. I make due with it and sit atop my horse in the streets of London. It was a lucky thing that Mother always makes her children carry spare change in their petticoats so I was able to pay the stable keeper for my stay. I probably could have stayed at an actual Inn but I had not thought of the money in my dress until early this morning. My filthy dress makes me seem like someone living on the streets anyway. I just wish someone had helped me last night, then I wouldn't be so scared to be walking on foot.

I ride around the city for half the day. my bottom is terribly sore and it feels like I am covered in blisters down there, which I probably am. It is noon when I a small Inn that looks cheap enough for me to stay there. But before I can even think of checking in, a dark haired head catches my eye. It is Antonio and a few other farmhands from the estate. they were probably sent out to look for me since i have now been gone for almost a full day. I duck my head, not wanting to go home yet. Though it may be a bit scary here in London, I have never been freer than what I am now. My only regret is that I ran away in spite of my sister. We have never yelled at each other like that before and I fear I have ruined our relationship for good. She probably doesn't even care that I am gone.

I don't know if it was my clothes, or anything else, but the search party must have caught sight of me because one of them yells at me to stop. I don't and race away from them. I traveled far into the city today so I have no idea which way is out. I raise around the nearest city block as I hear shouting behind me. Only one person now follows behind me. They probably split up to catch me from different areas easily. I keep my eyes peeled as I make the horse go faster, knocking over vender stands as I go through the marketplace. I look behind me again, to make sure that I am no longer being followed, but when I look back, the horse skids to a quick stop, throwing me forward into a wall.

When I open my eyes again, I am in my bed. i am wearing a fresh nightgown and there is a bandage wrapped around my head. I sit up quickly when my brain registers where I am and where I am not. The last thing I remember is being thrown off the horse and into a wall. Then there was a searing pain in my head and then...nothing. I guess I got knocked out by the wall. I look over to the window and see that the sun is just starting to set and I am starving. I haven't eaten since breakfast and that was only some gruel that I got at a cheap restaurant. I put a robe over my nightgown and head downstairs. My head still hurts a bit but at least I can walk..

In the sitting room, my family sits quietly, except for Father who is standing by the front window, looking rather solemn. I knock on the door frame lightly and all three heads turn in my direction. My mother breaks out into tears immediately and envelops me in her arms. I hug her back, burying my head in her shoulder, a few tears of my own cascading down my face. I can't even imagine the worry I put her and Father through. I should never have run away. She lets go of me and my father hugs me next, something he rarely does, "Don't ever run away from us again, Danielle. You worried us sick," he tells me when he lets me go, I nod solemnly, "We love you too much to let you skip out on us like that, alright?" I nod again and hug him for a second time.

"I love you too, Father."

I go over to Angel, a little timidly. She takes one glance at me before throwing herself into my arms, "I'm so sorry, Danielle. I should never have hit you like that. I never meant for it to go this way. I just got so mad that I couldn't control myself and then the next thing i knew you were running out the door," she rushes through her apology, tears streaming down her face in rivers. I laugh through my own tears.

"I forgive you, but I should never have said those things either," I hold her at arms length, "Promise me that we'll never do that to each other again?"

"Definitely a promise," Angel agrees. We hug each other again before going on into the dining room where Agnes is just finishing up dinner. My head starts to hurt halfway through and father orders me to rest up in my room. I oblige willingly, but Angel joins me to keep me company. She asks me about what happened to my face. My hand immediately flies to my blackened eye where the burly man had punched me. Now I remember where all my body aches are coming from, from being tossed and thrown to the ground so much.

"I just…" I don't want to tell her but we don't keep secrets from each other, "I was attacked last night. That's why my dress was so dirty and I have so many cuts and bruises." I run my hand over my cheek where the cut is actually covered by some gauze. Angel scoots to the edge of seat and then leans across the gap between us and helps me peal away the bandages on my face. She gets up and gives me a hand mirror from one of the dressers. I hold it up in front of my face and gasp when i see myself. I look absolutely terrible. My eye is nearly black with some purple around the edges. The cut on my lip has swollen up so my bottom lip is very puffy and a reddish yellow from the bruise there. The one on my cheek has swollen to and has some dry blood crusted on it. My hand goes to my ribcage where it suddenly starts to ache. I probably have some major bruising there. I shakily lower my hand, my reflection disappearing.I peel the bandage off from around my head and get up to do and brush my hair, but Angel stops me and does it herself. I can see that she is struggling from moving so much so I can't help but remind her that she shouldn't exert herself so much.

"I know, but you took care of me when I was sick, so now that you're hurt it's my turn to take care of you," she softly combs my hair, "I figured that I owed you a couple all of these past few weeks, helping me around the house and such."

There is a question that is now bugging me. Who exactly found me and brought me home, "Angel?"

"Hmm…"

"Who brought me back?"

"Oh!" she smiles brightly, "From what I heard Father saying, it was that Mister Teach guy that had you riding in his lap when they got back. I figure that that's super romantic that he saved you an all," she finished with a smirk. She puts the brush down and starts braiding my hair. I fiddle with the hem of the blanket that I have over my lap. Of course he's the one who brought me back. I wouldn't be surprised if he was just trying to gain my father's favor, even though he has no interest in me. But the only right thing I can do right now is thank him.

"Where is he now?" I ask quietly, she frowns at me.

"In the stables, of course? Where else would he be. Why do you ask? I thought you had given up on him," she raises an eyebrow but continues with my hair. I sigh impatiently.

"I know, but I think I should go and thank him for what he did. Why exactly did he do it?" I felt Angel shrug.

"I don't know, something about a duty or something."

"A duty…" I mumble to myself. A duty to what, or who? It bugs me for the rest of the night and my sleep. When I wake the next morning I had almost forgotten about it but then I spotted the hair brush and remembered Angel's and my conversation about Antonio. Since it is still the wee hours of the morning, I do not disturb Angel as I dress in plain everyday garb. It is the 5th of September so it is getting to be colder out now that the Autumn season is approaching, so before I go out to the stables I grab a new cloak from my wardrobe and then head out. The crisp morning air hits me as I open the side door, it is closer to the stables so that is why I took a different way other than the front door. I wrap the cloak tighter around me to keep the cold out and walk over the stables, my breath creating fog in front of me as I walk.

I hear the faint rustling of hay as someone replaces the old stuff in the stalls. We have a total of five horses, plus the one I rode to London on which must be a new one. I see Mister Teach in there, the neckline of his baggy shirt already coated with a thin layer of sweat. I clear my throat and he glances at me for a moment before continuing on with his work, "Up on your feet again, I see," he grunts out as he lifts the heavy stack of messy hay into the wheelbarrow with a pitchfork.

"Apparently it is all thanks to you, it seems," I reply, with a steady gaze, "I would still be sleeping in a messy stable stall with a horse had you not found me and brought me back."

"No thanks is necessary, Miss," he tells me as he still works, not even taking a moment to breathe, "After all, it wasn't just me who was out there looking for you." He walked outside and I followed him. He bent down next to the water trough and sprayed his sweat sprinkled face.

"I know, but I heard through grapevine that it was you who brought me back quick enough so that I could get a doctor," I give him a small curtsy, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have other things I need to do." I need to get away from this awkward conversation.I go to leave but his voice stops me.

"You know, next time you decide to run away, don't take my horse, alright?" he tells me. Oh, so that brown horse isn't one of ours. I turn around and bite my lip nervously.

"Then thank you for letting me use him," I curtsy again, but this time when I rise I look him in the eye and am startled to see him looking back at me in my eyes, watching me, studying me with a curious expression, "What?" I ask, breaking eye contact. He shakes his head as if he were coming out of a daze.

"Nothing, but uh, you're welcome anyway, Miss Murray," he nods his head and then goes back into the stables and I am left standing there, albate slightly confused at what just occurred. I leave the stables area and depart for breakfast with my family. Angel woke up feeling a little under the weather this morning so she stayed in her room for breakfast while I ate with Mama and Father. She were beaming all through breakfast and I soon learned why afterwards. Angel was requested downstairs so I helped her into the sitting room. Mama sat in her rocker with a wide smile while Father stood in front of us. I am not sure what this is about but I have a faint idea that it has something to do with Angel's and my birthday. Father looked slightly nervous as he stood there with a letter in his hand, the seal already broken so he must have already read it. but it has the seal of one of the King's advisers. Our Uncle Stephen is one of the King's most trusted one's. I wonder what he wrote to us about.

"Your uncle, my brother Jeremiah," Father started, "Has written to us on the occasion of your upcoming birthday," he winked at us, making Angel and I start beaming with wide smiles. Whenever he did that it means there was something exciting, "He wishes you a very fond congratulations on coming of age and requests that the celebration of your eighteenth birthday be held at his estate on the East Side of London." At that point, Angel and I started squealing. We didn't do that often but this was an exception. We are to have our coming-of-age party in a mansion! our uncle's no less!

"When are we to leave?" I ask, very excited, Angel and I are clutching each other's hands.

"It two days so that we may have some time to prepare for the celebration," Mama answers, a great smile of her own plastered on her face, very happy for us. I cannot believe it. Angel and I talk of nothing else for the rest of the day, we find out that mother has already scheduled a fitting with a tailor tomorrow before noon. On top of a large party, we get new dresses too.

This party will certainly be one to remember.

* * *

><p><strong>This is one of those chapters that I feel like a made a character too whiny or put in too many cliche scenes. The writing gets better as it goes along. Hoefully you think that anyway. just a warning though. Straightforward romance does not happen until the end. I'm just starting to write chapter 17 and I STILL have not yet written that they kiss :( It's unusual for me to wait that long before a lot of fluff and all that mushy goodness happens...<strong>

**Read and review until then,**

**KG1!~**


	4. Chapter 4: Garden

_In Between the Essence_

**I don't particularly like this chapter either. I'm sending it out unedited too (like the last one) so if you catch something misspelled or something along those lines then please message me. The plot starts to become a bit clearer in this chapter though, so if any of you are bored please hold on. it gets better. And due to the other POTC movies have some "unnatural" elements to it, there will be a couple of weird things up ahead. **

**Enjoy! :)**

**-Chapter 4- Garden**

**Antonio's POV**

Four Days Later

I am hot, sweaty, and badly in need of a drink of water. Today, though it is the sixth of September, might very well be the hottest day of the summer. To make the heat worse, I have been out in the fields all day helping train some newer farm hands that would helping with upcoming harvest. Boy, will those few weeks be hectic. I'm just glad to finally have some help to be able to do all of the chores that I have had to spread throughout a week. Though, I have quite enjoyed the sensation of my muscles burning, and my limbs shaking from strain. It felt almost as if I were back on a ship, doing hard work around it. But this seemed better, almost.

Later today, around noon I will be working in the gardens by myself, fixing up a few patches of dirt that rabbits and various other animals have dug into. I can't wait for my peace and quiet and a few minutes to sit down. Maybe get some food into me finally. The only downside would that I will have to work in the vision of the house. I won't be able to take my shirt off and let the slight wind blow over my body. I had caught Miss Murray watching me that one time, at least she had walked away almost immediately. (No woman, no matter how proper, could resist taking at least a single glance at a shirtless man. The same was with the other way around.)

After watering the last bit of my section of the fields, I went out from under the hot sun and into the shady garden. I sat down on the stone bench, the one Danielle had been sitting near when I had nearly trampled her with one of the big horses. I smile to myself. She was persistent, I will give her that. It wasn't a bad thing to be, but sometimes that persistence only turned into a want for things to be your way, or no way. Quite a few of my old enemies in the Caribbean were like that, but I won't disclose himself from that equation. That used to be me in my old life. But now that I no longer count myself as a pirate, I have to change my demeanor. I may have blood on my hands but I can at least try to wipe my slate clean. It is still hard even after almost two years.

I quick jog over to the stables and grab the canteen I had brought with me today that is full of rum and down a couple of sips. I might not get full on drunk anymore but the taste of this stuff is still numbingly good. I go back to the gardens and get to work with the few garden tools and start piling dirt back into the beginning constructions of rabbit and other animal holes. Watering all of the plants in the rather large garden takes about an hour, what with having to go back and forth from the well and then to the garden again. It's near noon when I feel eyes on me, I turn around and not exactly surprised to see Miss Murray standing there, a small basket in her hands, a cheesecloth wrapping around something inside. She lifts the basket up and says with a shrug,"I thought the workers might be hungry so my mother sent me out with some luncheon for them all," she reaches into the basket and picks up and square bundle wrapped in a red and white plaid cloth. She tosses it at me, I drop the rake I was holding to catch it. I nod my thanks. She nods with a smile and then leaves.

I sit down on the stone bench and unwrap my the cloth. Inside are two neatly sliced sandwiches. They have pickles and some tomatoes on them with some freshly churned butter spread underneath them. I recognize some flubbery brown stuff as a sort of meat but the rest of the stuff is unfamiliar. I never have been one for eating strange foods, for fear of it not actually being food. I hesitantly take a bite of one of the sandwiches and am pleasantly surprised when I find that it tastes rather good actually. I feel rather disappointed when I discover about five minutes later that I have no more of the sandwiches left. I crumple the cloth up and shove it into a pocket in my shirt to give back later. I continue on with my work, my hunger now satisfied.

After sifting through the dirt in the hyacinth patches, to clean out any fallen petals, I work my way on over to putting some fresh dirt down around the trees bottoms to make it a sort of border for it. I had seen some fancy gardens in Scotland have that, might as well give it a try and see what Sir Murray thinks of it. It's about three quarters after noon when I see Miss Murray passing through the garden again to get back to the house. I call to her but she is too far away so I brush my fingers off and stick my pinkies in my mouth. It took me a year to master the finger whistle, but it is very defective. She stops instantly and looks around when she hears the sharp sound. She spots me and waves at me, I wave back at her. I think it is only right to thank for the delicious food she gave me.

I walk over to her and she stands there, holding the basket in front of her, swinging it back and forward. I reach her and fiddle with my work gloves, "Thanks for giving me the lunch. It was quite good, did you make them?" I ask, curiosity biting me. She shakes her head.

"No, but our cook Agnes did," she moves a piece of her hair behind her ear,

"Is she that negro woman that can't pronounce English words well enough to save her life?" I ask. I probably shouldn't have said that, seeing as it was a bit of a bigoted comment.

"Yes indeed," She laughs lightly, apparently not offended. I shuffle my feet awkwardly. I know what she was doing with bringing me food, and I appreciate her effort to extend her hand towards me. And...I accept it.

"Listen," I told her, "I know what you're trying to, I've seen this tactic used over and over for years, heck, even I've used it," I looked down and lick my lips. She seems nervous as well, "It would be...nice, to have a friend for once." There. I said it. It's done and over with now. I extend my hand, "I hope this is good enough to qualify as a surrender?"

"Are you waving the white flag, Mister Teach?" she asks, teasingly might I add because she has a certain gleam in her eye. I lift the corner of my mouth at this, indicating that I know what she is trying to do.

"I do believe it was you who first raised it, what with bringing me food and all," I got her there, and she knows it too. She laughs again, and I join her with a chuckle of my own, "Well, Miss Teach, I hope you will my compliments to the chef for me. It was very delicious, and thank you for taking the time to bring it out to me."

She nods in answer, "But," she says with a start, "If we're going to be friends, no more formalities. Only when they needed," she added after, she extends her hand, "I'm Danielle, and you are?"

I shake my head unbelievably, I can't see why I am doing all of this. i can as soon just walk away from it but having a friend...I haven't had that in a long time. I look at her and smile kindly. I take a glove off and shake her hand, "Antonio at your service, mi- Danielle,' I have to correct myself already. She gives me a toothy smile.

"I will be sure to give your compliments to Agnes, and maybe I'll be able to convince her to make something special for you tomorrow for luncheon," she tells me and then walks away with a smile, taking my silent smile as a dismissal. I continue on with my work, feeling happier than when I started. But that's when I feel the eyes on me. It's coming from the large hedge surrounding the garden. I know who it is and I am very clearly not happy about it. I slap my glove back on and go over to the hedge. I unlock the gate that goes out of the garden and find Jack Sparrow on the other side of it.

"What do you want, Jack?" I give him the 'I'm serious' look. He waves his hands in front of himself. I roll my eyes.

"I know ye' still mad at me, but what I'm seeing ye do in ther' ain't helping the fact that yur missing you-know-who," he tells me. I don't even know how he found me, let alone got into the estate. I shake my head and start to go back in.

"Unbelievable...utterly unbelievable," I mutter to myself. He goes to follow me, but I turn around and stop him, "Look, I thought I made this very clear last week, I don't want to talk to you. Ever again!" I yell to get my point across, "I don't have time to be giving you a lecture. I have work to do." Go go through the gate.

"Yur mum would be disappointed in what ye have become, Toni-boy."

His comment stops me cold. How dare he bring Mum into this. My blood starts to boil with my rage and so I turn around so quickly he doesn't even have time to blink. I punch him in the face, hearing the sickening crunch of his nose being broken for about the millionth time in his life. he stumbles back and holds it, twisting it left and right. It crunches even more under the strain. I grimace from the sound. I regain my composure before he looks at me with an almost shocked look. That is a face I have never seen him wear before. There is only one thing left to do to solve this 'show.'

"You leave Mum out of this. She deserved a lot more than what she got. And what she got was you," I shake my head, a glare now settling on my face, "You left her for three years and when you finally did come back she was dying. If there is anyone that she would be disappointed in it would be you, Jack. I am trying to live an honest life while you go and put peoples lives in danger for seeking victories for yourself. I've had enough of it. You stay out of my life for good." With that I close the gate and lock it before he can say another word. I take my frustration out on the ground. Some spider grass is growing here so I have to chop it up until it starts to untangle itself.

***NextMorning***

In the morning I arrive earlier than usual, just in case Jack would be paying a visit in the wee hours of the morning. But I didn't see him this morning and I haven't felt any eyes staring a hole into my back, so I think I'm good. For now at least. Today it's in the stables for me, cleaning and mucking out the stalls which are done every other day by me. My horse, Ollie, has been spending a bit of time with the mare, Penny. It's a weird thought when you get the feeling that they like each other. Definitely a weird thought. I let the horses out into the pastures and make sure to send the herd-boys out to keep an eye for them. I get to work cleaning their 'rooms.

It's hardly midday when I see Miss- I mean Danielle, enter the stables with a basket that I am guessing contains my lunch for today. She smiles as she greets me, even I have to agree that this is a good day. She lifts her arms and indicates to the basket she is holding, "I convinced Agnes to make you another couple of sandwiches like yesterday's." She picks up and out of the basket and hands it to me. I take my gloves off and wipe my hands off on my trousers before taking them with a thanks. Then I get a random idea, "Do...do you perhaps want to join me?" it sounds weird when I say it, she's probably already had her lunch so why would be she need to join me, if only to watch me eat.

She raises and eyebrow but the smile doesn't leave her face. She shrugs nonchalantly, "Sure, why not?" I nod and we exit the stables together. We go sit down by the hedge leading to the garden. A few wooden planks on some beams are there that we sit on. She places the basket at our feet and I happily indulge in today's lunch. She smiles wide after I take a few bites. I freeze, my sandwich an inch from my mouth, "What?" my mouth is full of food so it sounds more like, "Wot?"

"Nothing!" she laughs slightly, "Just that you're getting mustard all over the outside of your mouth. It makes you look like you have a mustache."

"Oh, and facial hair is a bad thing?" I say jokingly, she laughs and I chuckle, wipe my mouth anyway. I finish the first sandwich and go on to the next and we talk while we do. The conversation is just idle chat, like the weather and the work I do. Then she tells me about her own life and then she mentions her eighteenth birthday and says something about her uncle's and I tilt my head, "When do you leave?" I ask.

"This afternoon, actually," she looks at the sun, shielding her eyes by putting her hand horizontally on her forehead, "I should probably get going now, really," she stands up and dusts the skirt of her dress off, "All of the ser…workers are to see us off. So, I guess I'll see you then," she says and smiles. She seems to be doing that a lot lately. I did, in fact, notice her slip of the tongue when she was going to say 'servants,' I'm just glad she corrected herself and said 'workers' instead. I give a small smile and nod.

"I guess I will come if I have to," I say with a smirk twitching in the corner of my mouth. She catches it and nods, and then says goodbye before going off, probably to go and finish getting ready for her trip. It was slightly hard to believe that a girl that acts like she does would be eighteen in a few days, even harder still that she is a twin. I have my hands full with only one of her. I have a feeling that her twin is a lot like her.

I see one of the other farm hands walk over to me. he's a younger lad, younger than I. I walks over to me and we both watch as Danielle heads indoors. Then he speaks, "Ya do realize tha' she will most likely be engaged by the end of this week, right?" his accent is somewhat there. It seems a little bit Irish. I look at him with an incredulous look.

"I don't really care about that, I can hardly even call Dan- Miss Murray a friend," I now have to correct myself on that, I guess formalities are necessary for the public. I do not want them getting any ideas about me and her. I nod towards the house, "What about you? You fancy her?" He just shrugs.

"She's nice to look at, yes," he says, "But I don't like the prissy 'above all else' type o' girls," he tells me, "I'm David Jamison, pleasure."

"Antonio Teach, likewise," we shake hands, "How long you been working here, David?" I figured formalities aren't necessary between 'commoners.'

"Two years," he holds up two fingers, "You?"

"Almost a month," I tell him, "I was probably in Scotland two years back, lovely terrain there, you know…"

***3HoursLater***

It was probably somewhere in between noon and the evening when all of the household workers were called to the front courtyard. We lined up in front of the house. Anyone who is wearing hats have them off. I had put one on about an hour ago so I have mine in my hand. David and I we talked for a bit while we worked. Turns out he actually is from Ireland and came to England about five years ago. I told him I was in the Caribbean then and we talked while we worked. It didn't seem so...awkward talking to David as it did with Danielle. I guessing because she is a woman and David is a man, or rather a boy because I found out he's only sixteen. I remember being that age. That was actually a very good year, good profits too. I spent three whole weeks in Tortuga, drunk as an ox. I don't even remember all that I did there and I actually don't really care to. I don't know if I did anything I wasn't really supposed to or not so I will just leave it at that.

The Murrays exit the house, the daughters have cloaks on so I cannot see them very clearly but I figure they have traveling suits on because that's what women wore when they...well traveled. When Danielle gets into the waiting carriage- that I suppose is to take her and her family to her uncle's- she glances at me and gives me and nod and smile. For one moment, everything freezes and I am for some strange reason unable to speak or even form a coherent thought. She is so beautiful…

Where in the world did THAT come from!?

I blink my daze away as quickly as I could and glared at the ground. Curse my male mind. I've barely been moving on from the last girl that broke my heart, I don't need to be involved with another one. She. Is. Just. A. Friend! That's it! I hope my brain is satisfied with this because I won't be handling anything more coming from it. The family all pile into the carriage, the reigns are slapped, and the carriage drives away. I put my hat back on and get back to work with a silent relief that they're finally gone. Now I can enjoy this next week in peace and silence. All of the other workers are in somewhat of an agreement with me about the peace and quiet of it all. The one thing I will miss is those tasty sandwiches Agnes makes me. She went with them as their personal attendant so I couldn't even get them if I asked for it.

After finishing cleaning up the stables, I help out in the fields. I don't really have to be here anymore today but I figured that the younger farmhands needed the extra help, even if I'm not much older than them. They appreciate it and I even work side by side with David. It's not bad work here, I will admit it. The pay is alright and I get to meet people while I'm here. I find those who work or live out in the countryside are a lot friendlier than those in the city. Maybe it's the fresh air that makes them seem nicer, I don't know. I found that I had a lot more fun out on the open sea, or in the mountains, than stuck in a small house in the center of a city. This may be a very fashionable time in everyone's lives but they aren't paying very much attention to the state of things that they're living in.

"Wot are Ya thinkin' aboot?" David asks me, his accent seems to get clearer and clearer every time I speak to him. I look up at him from my work and just shrug.

"Just happy the boss is gone I guess," I say with a joking smile, he laughs.

"I agree with ya," he finishes tying up a bundle of early ready wheat and walks over to the wagon and throws it on, "Wot else?"

"The fresh air, the countryside," I say with another shrug, "It's a very good place to be. But I have to admit, I am having an inkling that I seem to be missing the open sea more and more these days. But I have no personal desire to sail upon it ever again."

"Not even for riches?" I shake my head, "Family?"

"I have none of it left."

"Love…?" he raises his shoulders in suggestion. I give him a glare.

"Love is the reason I stopped sailing on it in the first place," I tell him, "I ain't losing anything to it ever again. The only way to solve that is by not going near it. Even with a ten-foot-pole." I continue on with my work, not wanting to continue on with this conversation. That seems to be all that I am doing lately. Concentrating on work. I am sick of it actually, doing things for people when they haven't done anything for me! I leave the field. I don't have to be here right now and I don't want to be here right now. I'll go home, that's what I'll do. But before I can leave, a young woman, probably a housekeeper, walks up to me carrying a note. I wave her off and continue on. I don't have time for this.

"But, sir!" she shouts, "It's from, Mister Murray." That stops me. I backtrack an take the note from her hands forcefully, she stumbles back and gives me a look but I just give her a look back and she drops her gaze. I tear open the note and read it, even thought my reading is very limited.

Dear Mister Teach,

I seem to have forgotten something in my study and only had enough time to write this as I was leaving. Please forgive this sudden anomaly but I request that you find the documents I am in need of in my upstairs study. I would have asked someone else but you were the first person that came to mind in my harried state.

Please come to this address in three days time to give me the documents.

Sincerely,

Sir Murray of Murray Farms.

the only thing I really understood from that was; documents; upstairs study; three days; and address. I guess they're the only important words on the note anyway. I nod to the housekeeper, "Take me to the upstairs study," I order her, she gives me a disapproving look, I hold up the note from Sir Murray, "Master's orders." She growls under her breath but goes towards the house. I follow her, making sure to scrape my muddy boots off on the welcome mat that it there. I don't really care t be paying for damage expenses. We go up two flights of stairs and go down a long hall before we stop at a pair of double doors that most likely lead the the Master's study. I nod to the maid, but then freeze, I look at her. I remember something that she said, "People beneath the Master's station, especially his servants, are to address him as Sir, not Mister. Got it?" she nods quickly, "Good, now get out of here." She races back down the stairs as I push open the double doors.

Inside is not what I expected. There is a man in there, standing behind the desk, looking out the window with his back to me. I step into the study with a wary gaze. Why would someone, especially someone dressed as fine as this man here, just go into the master's study uninvited? He turns around slowly and sees me. He raises an eyebrow, "So he actually did send you?"

I don't answer but keep going into the room, he lifts up a folder that probably has the documents I need in there, "Looking for this?" he asks, I nod hesitantly. I have no idea what is going on here so I don't say a word, "Here you go then," he tosses the folder on to the desk without a care in the world, "Happy bidding," he goes back to the window. I pick up the folder and go to leave the room, but slowly since I don't know what's going on, "But just so you know, by taking those to him you are helping the wrong side."

I had just put my hand on the knob of the door when he said that. I look at him before leaving, "Side?" I wonder aloud. he nods assuredly.

"I know who you really are, Antonio my boy. I know what you really are," he itches the side of his nose, "Jack Sparrow was recently spotted in England, and I have reason to believe that you...dislike him for something he did to you." I don't know where he is getting his information from but that is old news to me.

"I know he is in London. He's approached me twice already, trying to smooth things over for what happened two- You know what, I don't have to put up with this crap here so I am just going to leave." Hardly two seconds after I close the door behind me it opens again as I walk down the hall.

"I know who killed Lumina."

I haven't heard that name spoken out loud for more than two years. I think about her night and day but I don't dwell on her name. It almost brings tears to my eyes now that someone has used it so flippantly, "I would advise you not to speak of the dead," I see him twitch from the corner of my eye and I inwardly smirk. I slowly turn back around and stare him in the eye, "And how do you know so much about me? Who are you?"

"I have many names, Antonio. One being that, anybody who is anybody, fear. But my aliases are much more...demoting. I prefer not use them but-"

"Just tell me your name."

"Markus Schreave."

I am confused for a minute, then a tiny bell in the back of my minds rings and recognition of the name fills my mind. But then I feel confused again, seeing as the original Markus Schreave is dead. I killed him myself a few days after my mother was so blatantly murdered by him. Yes she was wasting away with the fever ravaging her body but he had been the one to finish the job. I should have been grateful to him for making her passing swifter than what it should have been, but in all my grief in my fourteen years I wasn't thinking straight so I ran him through the moment he slit her throat.

"Markus Schreave is dead, Mister no-name," I call him, "I killed him myself." Not that I'm proud of what I did, in fact I feel rather guilty that I had done it in such a hazardous state of mind, but I still did do it.

"I know," he nods while he says this, "Which I why I am tempted to kill you for murdering my father. You see, I am Markus Schreave the Second." I roll my eyes.

"I have met three generations of William Turners, I am not all that surprised that there is a second of someone else. In fact, I'm not surprised in the least. You aren't the first and you certainly won't be the last. Now if you'll excuse me."

"It seems that you have forgotten already that I know who killed your woman," he says in a sing-song voice

"Not listening!" I grit out and leave the house. I saddle my horse, putting the documents into the bag that hangs there twenty-four seven. People like him are only in it for their own victories. He and whole lot of other people are just like Jack, after their own prizes and not caring about how anyone else feels as they do it. I am sick of it! This is once again another time that I wish my mother were still with me. She may have been a pirate too but she was one heck of a good mother. She was a kind and nurturing woman in some ways, and you could see it if you knew her well. Why did she have to go so soon? I ask myself that question more often than anyone should but it shall be a question that I will always ask myself and others.

Two days later, as I am preparing for my journey to the address written on the note, another letter comes for me and It is actually an invitation to Danielle's party, for me specifically. I have no idea why she is inviting me, we hardly met...a month ago, but whatever! We have only just become friends. I suppose I will have to go to keep up an appearance but I shall be subtle at the same time. Who knows, this might actually be fun. But then the warning that Schreave gave me comes to mind and I am suddenly wary of going. But he is the bad guy because of what his father did. But then...I can't just go around judging people on what their peers have done. But what else am I supposed to do? I doubt he was being truthful anyways.

I shall just have to wait and see.

* * *

><p><strong>A little iffy, I know, but bear with me here. <strong>

**Don't forget to leave your comments in the section below! :)**


	5. Chapter 5: Dance

_In Between the Essence_

**Unlike the other chapters, this one was a lot of fun to write. It's got a bit of fluff in it but a lot of drama at the end; just a faint warning for you people :)**

**-Chapter 5- Dance**

**Danielle's POV**

_Same Day_

My corset was tightened even more before we got to the petticoats and finally the actual dress. Angel wasn't doing much better than I, and I can barely breathe,. But at least her corset isn't as tight as mine, because of her condition. The dress is beautiful, I will say, but I hate corsets. But it has to be done. I am grateful to our Aunt Rachel for buying these dresses for us. Her own daughters, Courtney and Eunice (who are fourteen and sixteen) will be using them once they reach their eighteenth year. Today, though, is the busiest day I have ever had to witness, seeing as it is the last day before the day of the party. Mama and Aunt Rachel scheduled a last minute appointment with the tailors to make some last minute adjustments. Our aunt had said that the dresses waists' weren't small enough for her liking which led us to being pinned and pricked to make our waists smaller with tighter corsets.

I grimace when I feel another prick and inwardly curse the dress and pins for future use. Aunt Rachel must have seen my face twist because she reprimands me, "Danielle, darling, don't use that face. You shall have more wrinkles than you can count when you are older if you keep it up." When she turns around I make a face at her and Angel giggles at my defiance. Aunt Rachel turns around at the noise and immediately our faces straighten out. She narrows her eyes and looks at our mother, "I don't know how you handle these girls, Beth. My daughters would be never behave so- so…horrifying!" she walks into the other room to probably cool off.

I lean over towards Angel and make a small comment, "Except Maria," we giggle at this but earn a look from Mama. Maria would be our aunt's youngest daughter who is only twelve. She is very hyperactive and boy-crazy. She doesn't seem like a high-born child in society, but I was (and still am) much like her at that age. She is the youngest of five so I can see why she acts so wild, so that she can get attention whether it be good or bad. After Eunice who is at sixteen it's Johnathan at nineteen and then Reginald at twenty-two (He's already married). My father and his brother had never really kept in touch until a few years ago when we were all invited to Reginald's wedding. That was the first time I met my extended family and found out my dislike for Eunice who is two years younger than I. It's confusing when you think about how large my family is. I even have another aunt, my father's sister, who lives in Ireland with her husband and four children. Mama and Father would have had four children also but my youngest brother had been stillborn when he came two months early. I was only four so I don't remember the tragedy very well.

I just cry out from another pin being stuck to me and the tailor muttering a small apology, when Maria bursts through the bedroom door, startling us all. She runs around the room laughing and yelling, "Guess What!" over and over again until Angel appeases her wish by answering, "What is it, Maria?"

She stops running around and takes a few deep breaths, the large smile never leaving her face, "I just overheard Father talking to your father that two Lords are going to be attending the party!" she yells excitedly. Angel and I just glance at each other, a little unsure what our cousin means by this. She must see our partial cluelessness because she sighs slightly exasperated, "When lords come they are to bring their oldest son. Lords sons are going to be there tomorrow night!" she is practically screeching at us. Her mother must have heard her because she comes in from the adjoining room and grabs her daughter by the arm and forces her out of the room, muttering things to her 'misbehaving' child.

Lords' sons are attending our party? Angel and I practically scream, Mama and the tailor cover their ears. Chattering is not possible to be subdued between Angel and I right now. We both make plans to save at least two dances on our dance-cards for the sons of the lords. We haven't yet decided which songs we'll dance to with them but I'm sure we'll have made our decisions by tomorrow night. Speaking of boys though, I hope the invitation I sent to the house for Antonio will have arrived by now and he has gotten it. I worry he will dismiss it and will not even think to come but now that we're...friends, I guess I can say now, I hope he will come to the party to be there for me. It's a little selfish though, to hope he'll come what with his busy schedule managing the estate and all. Though, we have many other farmhands that I am sure will be able to do his tasks for him while he takes a few days and comes here.

After our final fitting, we go for afternoon tea with Mama to meet with the other female members of our extended family. Maria is too young to attend but Courtney and Eunice are there and as straight and silent as poles as always. I don't ever want be like that. Stiff people are no fun and no fun means a very depressing life stuck indoors in tight clothing. Though being brought up well has its advantages too. I saw enough of the third class people in the taverns and alleyways when I ran away to know that I would never survive out there with the likes of them. I feel pity and sympathy for those who were born into such a life of poverty. That's when I realize that I have no idea if Antonio had been born into such a life. I figure that since he is working as a farmhand that he was born into the low society. But I cannot be sure until I ask him. Perhaps when we get back to the estate I shall inquire about it.

I sit down in a chair on the deck outside. We have umbrellas over our heads because the sky spells rain for the day. But it is traditional to hold afternoon tea time outside or in a parlor, and since none of us younger girls are quite old enough to be welcomed into that room, it shall have to be held outside today. Aunt Rachel and Mama are engrossed in a quiet conversation with each other. They've had practice on speaking so low that no one could hear them unless your ear were next to their mouths. Angel and I are to entertain our younger cousins today which I do not find that I want to do at the moment. Eunice daintily picks up her teacup and sips from it. I can tell that it is not so hot that you would have to do that. I pick up my and take a normal drink from it. I don't see the problem in what I just did until our dear aunt screeches at me, "Danielle! You will drink your tea the proper way or will have none at all, am I clear?" her stern look and voice make me nod immediately, timidly might I add, and set the china cup back on its plate. Angel seems to have done it better than I did because Aunt Rachel gives her an approving glance. She goes back to her conversation with Mama. Angel and I share a look while Courtney whispers something in her sister's ear. I roll my eyes. I do not want to deal with this right now. I feel like I have said that over and over these past few days that I have been in in the presence of my extended family. The only two I can really stand out of them is Uncle Jeremiah and cousin Maria. They are more alike than most father and daughter. I guess I am like my own father also, so was Matthew before he…

I don't continue my train of thought because I don't want to end up crying in front these women. Our cousins and Angel strike up a conversation that I have no interest in, but they speak quietly, so as to not to disturb the older women's conversation. I catch bits and pieces of it but I tune it out and take a sip from my drink, very daintily this time. That is when Eunice asks me a innocent question, so it seems, "Who do you fancy, Danielle?" that was apparently what their conversation was about. I look for a way out of this one. I still do fancy Antonio though I know our relationship is restricted to friends but I will not be even more of a disappointment in their eyes. I will be if I tell them I am attracted to a poor man. I stutter as I try to think of another man I fancy, "Um, that, um- uh Wilbert Trathson?" I blurt out unexpectedly. He's the son of a colleague of my father. He's not bad looking, decent at worst. He's not filthy rich, but well-off. The cousins are satisfied with this but then they see Angel looking at me with a certain look and then realize that I am lying. They start pressuring her to tell who I really like.

She doesn't do very well when people start getting on her case about things, otherwise she is very good at keeping secrets. But if I know my cousins well enough, they won't take her condition or feelings of the matter into consideration. They won't let up. So instead of making her tell the truth, I do.

"Antonio."

They look at me immediately when I say this, "Pardon?" Eunice asks. I try to come up with an small excuse for what he really is but I end up blank. The complete truth comes out a few moments later. I timidly, almost sadly, speak.

"He's a...he's a farmhand that works for Father," I say quietly. I look up from my hands that I am now fiddling with. Aunt Rachel and Mama had heard me and our aunt looks practically horrified and I am afraid she will faint from this shock. Angel looks grateful but my cousins are absolutely in shock. Mama looks almost indifferent, like she was expecting this but I can tell she is disappointed with me for letting something like that slip out. I cannot take their discrimination that will surely follow their surprise so I slide my chair away from the table and leave the porch just as it starts to rain. A few servants rush past me to get all of china inside before they are all soaked. My family members follow me inside but no one goes after me as I rush upstairs to my room. Tears start streaming down my face as I slam the door shut.

I don't see why they have to treat people that are poorer than them so badly! Like they are the dirt they walk on. I run over to my bed and fall face first on it and sob loudly. I am pretty sure no one can hear me but I cannot be sure so I quiet them to just tears soaking my white pillow. A small knock on the door, makes me sit up and sniff, my nose is starting run, "I a- am not in the mood for a le-lecture, Aunt Rachel. Just...just go away…" I begin to cry again. I have no idea why I am crying but it feels good to, all of my frustration and years of silence are finally starting unravel into my physical appearance.

The door opens and I sit up again to see who it is. As it turns out it's actually Maria. I don't even wiping tears away. I do sniffle again though, 'What are you doing here?" I ask her. I'm not exactly in the mood for questions from her or company in general. She shrugs.

"I heard crying and I wanted to know what was going on," she walks over to my side and sit down on the bed next to me, "Bad afternoon?" she smiles comfortingly. I nod slowly, not sure where this is going, "It's alright I always get those. But you probably don't because you're not the youngest of five children.

"No…" I say, my thoughts going to Matthew, "But it's practically the same if you're a middle-child." I take a string of my hair and wrap it around my finger, cutting off the circulation. I unravel it when it starts to turn beat red. She hasn't said anything more. I look at her, "How do you do it everyday? Living with a woman like that for a mother," this gets a giggle out of her.

"What did she do now?" she says with a sarcastic smile, "Did she insult you or something?" after inquiring this she gets up and opens the curtains for the window and lets some light in. Its still raining out but at least it doesn't seem so gloomy in here. I shrug just as she did.

"This is probably going to end up being something that sounds better in my head, but, you're just a twelve year old," that did sound better in my head, her eyebrows knit, "What I'm trying to say is that, you probably don't fully comprehend the...status of people who are very well-off." She nods, seemingly a bit a unsure. I continue, "Your sisters asked me who I fancied and I told them I like one of the farmhands that work for my father. Your mother almost fainted from shock." Her eyebrows now rise half an inch.

"That's what this is all about?" I nod, I am now unsure of this, "Mother has always been the traditional type. But its hard to believe, for me at least, that she is like that because she was born a poor girl. Her father was a sheepherder that worked for a poor farmer. It was the only work he could find so as a child of seven children, she was poor...even worse than the farmer her father worked for."

I am completely taken aback by this little tidbit of information. I found it almost funny at the irony of all of this. Women could marry men higher than themselves but Men could not marry women higher than themselves. If that makes any sense at all. When did life and this world entirely become so complicated? I wipe the crusties that now have settled in the corner of my eyes from the dried tears, "So, your mother doesn't want any of her family, or anyone for a matter of fact, marrying below their station because she doesn't want them to have to live the way she had to when she was a little girl?" This makes some sense to me, and apparently to Maria because she nods with a small smile.

"So you see, she's not all bad. You just have to look really, really deep to find her good side," we share another laugh.

"Thank you, Maria," I get up and go hug her, she gives me a hug back, "You gave me just what I needed. Now, how about we go see if we can find a chess board. I've thought up a new idea for a game to play with it. Probably a lot simpler than chess itself."

*****Later*****

"You win again!" I laugh as I say this while Maria crowns her final king. I don't know what to call this game yet but it is definitely more fun than chess. Maria seems to enjoy it just as much as I do. We are sitting in the family room, on our stomachs no the floor, the chessboard between us and black and white buttons on the checkered-board being used as our playing pieces.

"Lets play one more time, and lets see if you can beat me this time!" we line our respective playing pieces our ends of the board and begin again. I get halfway across the board when one of her pieces jumps over my and captures it. We go on with this game for a half hour before I finally win. That's when we heard a knock on the french doors. We both look up quickly and see Courtney standing there, she looks almost guilty. We stand up quickly and brush our skirts off before I nod for her entry. She comes in a nods her head, "Hello," is all she says. We both return the greetings, Courtney looks at me, "I want to apologize for my behavior this afternoon. It wasn't my place to ask you such a question, not to mention not even considering how you would feel about it." Her voice has always been a bit small, almost too gentle, "I speak for both my sister and mother, as well as myself."

"I…" I really was not expecting this, "I guess I accept the apology. But why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why would you want to apologies?" I ask, more detailed this time, "You, your sister, and mother didn't exactly seem so forgiving this afternoon." She looks down.

"Alright, fine," she looks back up, "I'm only apologizing for myself right now. I didn't mean what I was doing back there. Alright?" I nod, accepting this. We stand in uncomfortable silence before she makes a quick curtsy before going to leave. I growl inwardly, why am I going to do this? I have no idea but I stop her before she can leave.

"Stop, please, Courtney," she pauses and then turns around, giving me a questioning look, "Thank you, for taking the liberty of setting an example." I gesture to Maria with a quick flick of my head, "There are some who take to them a lot easier than one might think." She gives me a small smile before leaving the room. I turn to Maria, "Why don't you go an put the board away now, we've played with it long enough for today." She has a protest in her mouth, I know it, but it dies a moment later and she goes and puts the board away. She can behave at times too.

I stifle a yawn as I walk up to my room. My family can be a bit stiff sometimes, and a bit rude even if they don't know it, but deep down they do have a conscience. It defines what it right and wrong for them and others. I guess I just haven't seen it very much because I haven't had a reason to. With that thought, I'm going to take a short nap before dinner tonight. I find Angel already asleep on her bed when I enter our shared chambers. I smile sadly, she needs me more than ever and I have hardly been there these past few weeks. We may have lost our brother but she also lost her lover. They had planned to marry once she turned eighteen. If only Fredrick hadn't gotten sick, then they could have had their happily ever after. But there has always been a single question nagging me for many years of my life.

Will I ever get a happily ever after?

*****NextEvening*****

"Hurry, Margaret, or we're going to be late!" Maria said in a rush to the maid finishing up my hair. Maria leaves the room, hoping to occupy herself since she is already ready. I have my dress on and everything else underneath it. I am feeling a bit rushed myself even though I'm just sitting at the vanity doing nothing. Angel is at another vanity desk beside me, already finished, "You nervous?" she asks quietly, a twitchy smile plastered on her face. It going to be there for the rest of the night if she can help it. I shake my head at her question. The maid holds my head to make me stop.

"Nope," she stares at me, almost shocked, then I pull a smile, "I'm terrified." She smiles fully this time. That seems to be the only thing we can really manage right now. She stands up but has to catch herself on the desk when she gets to her feet. She's feeling weak tonight because we hardly got any sleep last night because we were so nervous. It probably took us till midnight to start drifting off. But then Maria got us up at dawn so we were dead on our feet half the morning. Right now the only thing we're running on is something they call caffeine.

"All done, milady," the maid, Margaret, tells me and I thank her for what she has done for both me and my twin. She nods her acceptance and then leaves the room. I look in the mirror one more to check how everything is. My hair is done up in puffy bun on my head, with some hair out that has been curled. It prickles my neck slightly but other than that it is perfect. I nod to Angel and she and I clasp arms as we head out of the double doors of the powder room. Maria stands there tapping her foot impatiently. Sometimes she's more like her mother than some might think.

"Lets go, lets go!" she practically pushes us towards the stairs. She goes down into the mess of people that stand there, and that's only the entrance of the house. There are plenty of people in the rather large parlor that some might mistake for a ballroom. I peek my head over the railing and look down at all if the people milling about. A dark head of hair catches my eye and I immediately know its Antonio. I can only see the side of his face but it's definitely him. I stand back beside Angel while we wait for the room to clear out so we can go down there. We start to hear the chattering down their dwindle until almost nothing. I recognize the voices down there now as only Maria, Mama, and Father. father says something to our mother and cousin and then there is silent as shoes clop across the marble floor and then a door shuts. They left.

"You girls can come down now.' We heard Father say this and we walk down the stairs as fast as we can without tripping each other or ourselves in our long and poufy dresses. Father beams when he sees us, "Oh, my dears, you look absolutely stunning. Both of you, "He takes a curl that has somehow ended up near my face and tucks it behind my ear, "Eighteen years old already. Before we all know you will be having your own daughters coming-of-age party," he looks us over for another moment.

"Thank you, Father," Angel says, her tiredness is slowly going away by all of the excitement, but she is still a little bit weak from her condition. She is lucky she won't have to dance very much tonight, especially in these shoes. They are very pinchy! He offers us each an arm and we take them. Angel makes another comment, "By the way, you look absolutely dashing. Is that a new suit?"

"Why, of course it is. Nothing but the best for my dears," another smile is given to each of us before he escorts us to the entry doors to the parlor, or ballroom as I can most definitely call it. We stand on the side as he goes into the room and speaks to the announcer. I am not sure what his official title is but I do know that he 'announces' peoples presence when they enter the room. Father gives us an encouraging look before the doors close. The announcer gives a rather long speech about us before our names are called. Since Angel is the oldest she is to go first. She gives me a thumbs up before standing with her back rod straight as the doors open and she walks into the room as thunderous applause erupt throughout it. Then there is another long speech, a bit shorter than the one before, then my name is announced.

The doors open and I immediately feel self-conscious of how I look. That probably sounds very vain and snooty but its the truth. As I walk out, the same applause erupts and I put on a wide smile, but not so much that it makes me look insane. I curtsy low and then rise. Father is to escort us until any gentlemen come to call for a dance or our company. I take his arm and Angel and I beam at each other. Everyone in the room goes about their own business now, dancing, talking, and eating at the rather extravagant buffet we have. Aunt Rachel told Angel and I that we are not to eat anything except some punch if a gentleman asks if he can get us some. I don't think the butterflies in the my stomach can handle food right now anyway.

Father introduces us to the Count of Worthington's son who is a scholar at the local university. The Count, unfortunately, could not make it for he had previous arrangements set already. I believe the Count's son's name was...Blythe? I don't quite remember but I am sure we have met before somewhere. He offers Angel a dance to the music that has just started up and she gleefully accepts, but with as much poise as she can muster. Father continues on to introduce me to a number of other young men before we spot Mama and Uncle Jeremiah. I feel Father arm tense for half a second before it lets go. That was strange. We continue to walk around the ballroom until a younger fellow, probably not much older than myself, comes and introduces himself as Sir Randolph.

"If you would care for a dance, Miss Murray, I would be happy to oblige to that wish," he asks me to dance in such a formal way that I almost have a hard time keeping up with it and remembering what my proper response will have to be. I give him a gracefully nod and a small curtsy.

"It will be my pleasure, Sir Randolph," he bows and offers me his arm in which I take. I don't even glance at Father as we spin out on to the dance floor. It is a line dance so we react in sync with other dancers as we circle our partners. The day before yesterday, Aunt Rachel had as many dances drilled into our head as possible. Angel and I may have gotten at least five dances memorized before supper. Angel, of course, could only do three, but that was about the average number of dances a girl is suppose to do during a ball.

After the line dancing is finished, the song switches to a slower tune and another gentleman asks for a dance with me. I curtsy and accept. We clasp hands, I put my hand on his shoulder, his goes on my forearm and soon we are dancing across the floor. I don't really care for conversations with strangers but he strikes one up anyway, "Quite a party, isn't it?"

"Yes, indeed it is."

"And it is all for you?" he inquires with a small smile.

"Part of it," I tilt my head towards my sister who is dancing near us with an older gentleman, "My sister An- Evangeline is my older twin so it is for both of us." He looks partially bored with the conversation and I realize what I did. Women aren't supposed to speak about themselves when the men start the conversation, and they always start the conversation, "How are you enjoying tonight?" he perks up a bit, the conversation now drifting his way.

"Very well, if I do say so myself, and I do indeed say so," I roll my eyes inwardly, so charming yet so oblivious, "I wasn't going to attend originally going to attend but my employer said it would be a good...opportunity."

"For what, might I ask?" I am being a little bit too curious for a young woman of my social standing but what he is saying makes me almost...twitchy.

"My, my, what a curious little woman I have ended up with," his smile is teasing but underneath that I can see a grimace surfacing, "But the opportunity is to meet lovely young women, such as yourself, of course."

"Even though I'm curious?"

"Even then."

We continue dancing in silence before I excuse myself. The excuse was that my feet are hurting, which they actually are so it wasn't really an excuse so much as a truth. I happily sit down on a chair by the door, willing my feet to pull it together. I roam the room with my eyes, looking for any sort of familiar face. I see Maria standing next to her mother looking bored as all get out. Evangeline is talking to the older gentleman with a cup of punch in her hand.

Lucky sister.

Father is talking with other men by the band, who are emitting beautiful music from their instruments. Mama is talking to Aunt Rachel and Maria. I am about to go over their when I hear a voice that makes me break out into a smile, "I don't suppose you're sitting out because no one wants to dance with you?" I turn around and see Antonio standing there. His hair is pulled back into a stubby ponytail. His face is clean shaven which I don't really care for but it looks nice anyway. His suit is definitely a striking contrast to his usual look. I like it.

"No," I tell him with a smile, "But where are all the ladies that were draped over your arms? I'm sure they miss you," his jaw almost drops when I ask him this, he probably wasn't expecting me to say that.

"Who told you?" his question is almost accusing, I grin.

"You did, just now," he looks down, slightly embarrassed, "It's alright. I'm used to things like that. My brother would come home almost every night with a different woman. I couldn't keep track of them all."

"So your brother is a ladies man? When can I meet him?" his tone was in a joking manner but when he sees how my mood is rapidly going south he clears his throat in shame, "I-I'm so sorry, I completely forgot. I- um," he's at a loss for words and so am I. I haven't spoken very openly of him lately. I've thought about Matthew a lot these days but nothing has been said aloud. I look around, trying to find a subject to talk about. I decide to go back to our earlier conversation.

"So um- have you been dancing yet? The music at these kind of celebrations aren't usually very good for solo dancing so if, by chance I'm just saying, you need a partner I would be happy to oblige." He thinks about this for a minute, almost seemingly contemplating something before he holds out his hands.

"I wouldn't mind a dance or two, care to join me?" he gives a mocking bow. I do an exceptionally low curtsy.

"It would be my pleasure, good sir." I take his hand gingerly and we walk to the dance for slowly. The song playing now is just ending. Those who had been dancing stop and clap for the performers and the others around them. A new song starts up and people get their pairs. I know this song. It's an intimate dance and I hope Antonio doesn't know that but if he does he doesn't care because we line up anyway. Us women hold our hands out towards our gentlemen partners as the music really starts going. Then men bow low and take our hand in theirs, kissing our knuckles . I shiver involuntarily as his lips brush my hand. For a moment I felt Antonio tense but I dismiss it. We take each other's hands, his other hand hesitantly is placed on my hip and he steps back and leads us. I step forward and then he goes to the left, I follow. Everyone is doing the dance in sync so it doesn't seem as awkward as it could be. The piano and violins spark up and Antonio spins me around. I spin for a few moments and when the music dies back down I come back into his arms, he catches me and we look at each other in each others eyes for a moment before he averts his eyes and we get back into the dance.

It is over before it has even begun and every pair bows and curtsy to each other. We do the same and I leave immediately. I don't know what is going on except that I am so confused right now. I thought we were sticking to friends. Maybe it was nothing and just a momentary relapse, he froze, and a moment later we were in an awkward embrace. I knew the dance was an intimate one, why had I danced with him of all the men in this room to that song with? I hear someone calling to me. Antonio. He seems to have followed me. I stop and turn around to talk to him but before he can utter a word three BANG!'s go off and we all see the small shrapnel of the bullets fall from the air. People scream and try to flee. What is going on! Why are people shooting at us? I catch sight of Uncle Jeremiah and Mama. He is leading her from the room.

I see the man with the gun. He is wearing a mask so I cannot tell who he is exactly but something gold catches my eye, a gold pocket watch in the man's jacket. I feel a tug on my arm. Antonio is pulling it, leading me towards the doors. But before I can do anything Antonio spots the man also and sees him going towards my uncle. I scream at my uncle to get out of the way but my shouting is carried away in the loud noise of the crowd. Antonio runs towards them, giving me last instructions to get out of there now. I run for the exit but when I am at the doors I have enough time to see Antonio jump in front of my uncle, taking him down with him just as two shots are fired. the second one is delayed by only a second. The first one hits Antonio and I scream, but where the second one goes I don't even comprehend until I feel like I am falling. I hit my head on something hard and the light in the room starts to fade.

The second bullet had hit Mama right between her eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>So, as you can see, the drama and action is picking up \:) <strong>

**Don't forget to leave your comments in the section below! **


	6. Chapter 6: Wound

**-Chapter 6- Wound**

**Antonio's POV**

Dreaming has always been one of the worst things for memories I have to relive with some sort of twisted plot added to it. Now isn't any different.

I'm standing on the deck of the Black Pearl and I am confused on how I got there. Jack is at the helm and we seem to be the only two people on it. But where is the crew? At least Gibbs, he's always here with Jack. I look around until I come to a room full of mirrors. When did I go below deck? I stare at myself in a hundred different sides. I walk across the room until I come to a mirror. But instead of seeing my face I see the back of my head. The me in the mirror is facing away. What is with this. I go to touch the mirror but a voice stopped me. It makes me almost cry as I turn around.

"Toni…" she whispers, "How could you let me die?" her voice is small, no anger only disappointment, "I thought you loved me…" her figure disappears and I quickly run my hand through the spot where she had been. I come out empty handed. I leave the mirror room, tears running down my face which doesn't happen very often. Jack is standing in front of me, begging for my forgiveness, blaming it on his lust for immortality on his 'genes.' A smirk spreads across my face. I like it when he begs.

"Do it again," I tell him, "Beg." Nothing comes from him as his eyes disappear, replaced by dark holes of oblivion. I start to fall, I flail, and then I land.

Thud

I sit up, confused at what just happened. I feel pain in my leg and I bite back a yell but instead let out a groan. The events of...well I don't actually know how long its been but the major events that have just recently taken place fill my head. I look up and see that I have fallen out of a white and pristine bed. After blinking a couple of times, a coherent thought goes through my mind. Where in the world am I? I use the bed to help pull me up on to my on leg that doesn't throb with pain when weight is put on it. I sit on the bed and then lay down, still too exhausted to lift my feet up on to the bed.

I was shot, I can tell. By the looks of it, my leg had taken the bullet and so I will be unable to use it until it is practically healed. I sigh and sit up again, with some effort. My body seems to be fighting something, a drug to put me out while they got the bullet out of the wound probably. I grip beneath my knee of the wounded leg and hoist it up on to the bed, gritting my teeth as my hand slips and brushes the bandaged calf. I lift the other one up and on and lay back down. That took a bit of an effort but its over and done now.

The door opens a few minutes after I have closed my eyes. I open them to see who it is. I'm not surprised to see that it is a doctor. I can tell by the medical tool he has around his neck for listening to a person's heart. I'm not sure what the official name is for it, I haven't had to be in a hospital for a long time. He looks over a folder in his hand and then up at me, realizing now that I am awake.

"Oh! Good, you woke up," his accent is not british in the slightest and it sounds foreign. German maybe? Close to that anyway, "We had to give you a dose of chloroform to remove the bullet from your lower calf. I wasn't sure when you would wake up," he sets down the folder, "I'll need to do a quick examination of your leg before I will be able to discharge you or not," I pull the blanket off of my almost naked body. I have undergarments on but that is it. He unravels the bandage carefully, for which I am glad for, before taking a circular piece of glass and looking at the wound closely. I wince as he prods around the wound with his fingers. After wrapping the wound back up he writes in his folder.

I wait patiently for him to tell me if I can leave but when he says nothing I speak up, "So?" he looks up.

"'So', what?" he questions my wording.

"So can I leave or not?" I explain it this time. He seems to have clued in.

"Oh, yes, of course. Just don't put any weight on your leg for about a month and you should be good." My jaw almosts drops. No walking normally for a month. Is he insane or something? How am I suppose to work, or even walk? He seems to have read my mind because he goes over to one of the closets and pulls out a tool that I have only seen cripples use. They call it a crutch and I never thought that I would be using one in my entire life. He then calls in a nurse to help me dress before he leaves. She's an older lady, probably married or she is single and could only find this job (probably the most respectful one a woman can get.) She has a pile of clean clothes for me, just a white shirt accompanied by a brown vest and a pair of dark trousers. The boots I had worn to the party last night are the ones I have to wear but I am alright with that since my old ones were getting a bit small on me. I've had those ones since I was fourteen when Ma bought them for me. That had been about, I believe, three weeks before she got sick.

I hobble out of the room with the crutch (something I now despise with a passion) but almost fall into everybody I pass. I realize that I am still in Lord Murray's home, just in the infirmary section of the house. Though it is practically a mansion which makes my job harder with trying to find the doorway to the other parts of the house. When I finally do find the door, a loud voice stops me.

"Antonio, you're okay!" and then I have my arms full of a young woman who I am assuming is Danielle, what with her light curls and all. She is in a robe tied tightly around her...Curvy. Body. I shake my head clearing my mind of those disturbing thoughts. We have only just reached being friends, why am I having these...these...oh who cares what they're called! Just get them out of my head. I focus on something else, like the woman I am practically cradling in my arms, if only I would put them around her. I tentatively wrap my arm around her, my other on clutching onto the crutch. She steps back a minute later and thats when I see her red face and blood-shot eyes. She had been crying recently, probably this morning judging by the tear streaks she has on her rosy cheeks. Its not a blush that covers them, no I know that when I see it, no this is just a red face from crying. Before I was put under I remember unbelievable amount of pain and was coherent enough to notice Lady Murray, Sir Murray's wife, drop to the ground. She either fainted or was shot dead. I am guessing, by Danielle's face, that she died.

"You are alright, right?" she asked hesitantly. I look down at the leg I am currently trying to keep off the ground and she gives a sharp intake of air, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry this happened to you. I don't know how any of what happened last night, well, happened!" tears well up in her eyes. I don't care how this might look to those around me so I pull her into another hug as she cries in my shoulder.

"I'm sorry that you lost your mother. I know it hasn't been very long since you brother, well- um," I feel quite awkward now with talking so I stay silent as she sobs quietly into my shoulder. I rub her back, dropping my crutch and leaning on the wall next to the door, I know exactly how she feels. I lost my mother too and it had not been easy, nor will it be for anyone, getting over my grief and moving on with my life. I only had a few select friends to help me through it. She still has her sister and father to help her. And I guess me, if you want to count every friend she has. "Hey, its gonna be alright. I know what you're feeling so I know you'll get through it," I pull her head out of my shoulder and stare her in the eyes, "You're not alone, Danielle, alright?" she nods.

"My sister was taken as a hostage, at least that's what the doctor informed me of," she leans into me again and I gladly try and comfort her, "Do you have any siblings, Antonio?" I shake my head against her's. She feels it and sighs, "if only I knew why they took her then I could-"

The doors beside us open rather abruptly. A little girl appears, probably about twelve, and runs smack dab into us. I grimace as she grazes my wounded leg. Danielle holds me up as I feel it starting to get weak from trying to keep it off the ground so long. Danielle grabs my crutch as the little girl stares at us but then snaps out of it when she sees the crutch come up off the ground and starts apologizing furiously. I wave it off, "I'm fine, no harm, no foul."

"Are you sure?" she asks unsure. I nod quickly.

"I'll be fine."

"Good, because Papa wants to see you as soon as humanly possible,' she says rather quickly. I am confused for a moment but then clue in that this must be one of Lord Murray's daughters. But why would he want to see me, "Come on, come on! Lets go." She takes my free and makes me hobble along as quickly as I can. She slows down a few paces and leads me down a few corridors before we reach a large library. I'll have to remind myself to visit here sometime soon again. Lord Murray is standing by a window, a book open in his hand. He looks up when he hears the thud of my crutch on the waxed wooden floors.

"Ah! Mister Teach, I believe it is?" I nod, "Good then. Maria, I would be very happy if you could leave here for a little while, sweetie" She nods happily and then closes the door on her way out. Once she is gone Lord Murray looks at me with a smile and sighs.

"I want to thank you, young man, for saving my life last evening," he sits down on one of the sofas and gestures me to do so as well. I do it with a grateful heart as he continues, "In fact, such bravery and courage is to be commended and rewarded." That catches my notice.

"Rewarded, m'lord?"

"Oh, yes, indeed. We're talking about my life here. It is clear someone planned an assassination attempt on me and you thwarted the attack," he sits on the edge of the seat, "The loss of my sister-in-law is a deep sorrow for everyone but I am sure she would be grateful also that you saved my life and for that she too would want you rewarded." He stands up again and goes over to a desk by the window he had been standing at earlier. He opens a drawer and then lifts the bottom of it, revealing a hidden compartment. He takes out a medium sized bag out of it and jiggles it as he looks at me. I hear the sweet sound of many coins bumping up against each other, "I do realize that this in now way makes up for you becoming injured because of me, but I hope you shall accept it," he hands the bag of coins to me and my jaw nearly drops at how much it weighs. I lift it up and sound a few times and then place on the sofa next to me.

"Thank you, s- m'lord," I correct my tongue rather quickly, he is a Lord not a Sir. He sits down again and nods.

"I am glad that you accept that. And I also hope you shall accept one other thing,' I raise and eyebrow. I knew there had to be a catch! But he seems almost nervous about this, "Would you accept the honor of becoming betrothed to my eldest daughter Eunice? Of course you'd have to wait until she is eighteen." I blink.

Then a second time.

"What?" is all I say. I know it is rude seeing as he just gave me a rather large sum of money, but really? I am clearly confused by all this. he wants me, of all people, to take his daughter's hand-in-marriage. No! I am not accepting that. How could he just...just...sell his daughter that to a total stranger?I am not having it, "I am sorry sir, but, I am not interested in a marriage. At all," I make sure to emphasize my words carefully so he'll get the seems to contemplate this a moment before nodding.

"Ah, that's alright. It was more of a test if anything" I almost start with relief because of this. Okay...That was strange. then he stands up and walks over to the window, "After all, I know for a fact that for someone with a family such as yours, it would be very hard to climb up the social ladder," he smirks and then nods at one of the butlers in the room, "James, please show this young man out for me. I would be most grateful for that." I pick up my sack of money and hobble to the door, albeit slightly confused at what has just occurred I still don't see why he had to test me, and who does he think he is knowing who my parents are? I've never met him before in my life! But maybe...no It couldn't be again, Jack had met a lot of interesting people in his lifetime.

I try not to dwell on it as I walk (no, hobble) along the corridors. I meet up with Danielle in the sitting room. She has brought out a chess board for us. A few sandwiches are set off to the side. I am beginning to like lunches these days. We sit down on either sides of the board and eat our lunch while she teaches me a new game. We think of names for it as we play it.

"What did my uncle want?" she asks halfway through lunch. She moves another one of her buttons across the board to a black square. She had no where else to go, just as I planned, so my black button skipped over her's and captured it. She moves another piece and then I move mine. It doesn't take much to think when playing this game so we can easily talk.

"He wanted to commend me," I crown one of my by threading a string through it, "And then rewarded me with money and the promise of one of your cousins hand's." Her reaction nearly sends me into a laughing fit. I still smirk, "I'm kidding. You're allowed to do that in a friendship." She looks down sheepishly.

"I know…" she mumbles.

"But, really, he did offer me one of them for the future. But I declined," I smirk again and pat the pocket in my vest that is heavy with the coin sack, "plus I do believe the money is enough.," she skips my king and captures him, "Good move…" and then I skip her queen, "But now we're even. You finishing that sandwich?"I nod at her half eaten food. She nods her head vigorously.

"Of course I am," she takes a bite to prove her point. I've already finished all mine but I was wondering about her. She stares at the sandwich and then her chewing slows until it stops. I frown. What's wrong?

"Danielle, are you alright?" I move to her side and she blinks a couple of times, tears starting well up in her eyes. I've tried to keep her mind from wandering to the sore subject of last night. It's worked, up until now it seems.

"I'm sorry," she gives me a sad smile, a tear slips down her face and she wipes it away immediately, "It's just...my siblings and I, when were younger, would help Agnes make lunch sometimes and we would have great fun doing it. Sometimes food fights would break out and when Father would find us we would be all covered in sauces and powders. Mama would take the three of us upstairs and get us cleaned up before scolding us," she sniffed and closed her eyes, "Gosh I miss them all so much…" more tears slide down her face and I quickly pull her into a hug. I feel her squeeze her eyes tight as tears drip on to me.

"I may not be able to do much myself," I tell her then pull away, "But I promise you I'll find out who did this. Alright?"

She smiles through her tears, but shakes her head, "I do believe its a bit early to be making promises like that, Antonio. I want that man to pay for what he has done to my family but I don't want him to be killed. I want him to rot," her new grimace fades into one of grief, "I want him to rot in jail for the rest of his life and live with what he has done."And i agree.

"Okay."

***Afternoon***

Sometime in the afternoon, the subject of her sister comes up again but I try my best to steer the conversation away from her or of anything about that night. But its inevitable when she decides to go to the 'ballroom' as we have both kept calling it. I protest against it, "The authorities are probably working in there."

"Then we'll help," was all she said before getting up and leaving the room, making me sigh before following her. I won't be much help but hopefully I'll be there to guide her away from the room. I just hope they've moved the body already. They have, I notice, when we enter the room. Some of the roof had crumbled to the ground after the gunshots had been rung into the air, the bullets had hit the pain of being shot myself is still fresh and I nearly fall to the ground when pain courses through the wound after I accidentally out my foot onto the ground, stepping on it too. Danielle is immediately at my side, helping me stay upright while I regain my proper breathing rate. I nod to her and she lets go. We continue on over to her father who is speaking with an officer.

"Father, how is the investigation coming?" he looks nearly startled to detah when she speaks up. He stumbles slightly but recovers in a split is unnaturally calm right now, seeing as this was the same room in which her mother was shot dead. How is she so calm? Maybe its just how women react to death. I wouldn't know because I am a male, obviously.

"Danielle! And...Mister Teach, how unexpected," he smooths the front of his clothing out, "I thought you would be resting, it is surely a blessing that you are up and about so quickly," he looks behind me a split second but from that look I know there is someone that has just arrived. I turn around and see a young man, maybe a year younger than me walk in, "Ah! Sir Panettiere, perfect timing. Before we start our meeting I think it might be best if you take a walk with my daughter Danielle. Have you met yet?" I raise an eyebrow at the prissy-boy standing there, in his powdered wig and all.

"We danced briefly during the party, Sir," he answered stiffly. Such a stickler. He only soares me a short glance and I resist the urge to roll my eyes, but its gone in a second and I do it anyway. Sir Murray nods for them to leave and I go to leave as well but he stops me. It seems everything is becoming repetitive lately. How many times do people have to stop me before they get the point that when I walk away I mean to actually leave, not stay an extra hour.

"I hope you did not only come on the request of my daughter, Mister Teach," he said, shooing the officer out as well, "The documents I told you to bring, are they here?" He seems almost...nervous about them for some reason. I wonder what's on them, probably something concerning this case I should think. But then, why did he want them before he even knew about all of this. I don't like all of this mystery so I choose to spare myself some time by playing dumb.

"Um, what documents?" I say with a questioning tone. I hope my face gives away some confusion in it. His eyes widen like he has said something he wasn't supposed to. This is all getting very strange and suspicious to me. What's he planning, what's he up to? I have a sinking feeling it has got to have something to do with the murder that happened last night. But then again, why would he plan his own brother's downfall? I need to read those documents. Perhaps I shall have to enlist Danielle to help me with that part. It's her family tat is involved with this matter.

"Oh, um, nothing. You may go," he seems almost...reluctant to let me leave, like he has something more to say but I take that as my leave to exit and I do so immediately, no one stopping me this time. I make a break for the room I was given on the main floor, where all of the other guest rooms are. It's kind of hard to find mine, since all of the doors are painted the exact same color but I at least took the liberty of marking mine before I left it last night. The documents I brought are in my satchel, hanging on the the bed post. The small, hardly noticeable scratch I put on my door is found and I open the door quickly and hobble inside. I lean the crutch on the side of the bed and hop on to the mattress. I flip open the satchels front cover and pull out the folder. I slowly flip through it, wondering what all of the long words on there say. This is going to make a this all a whole lot more difficult, the problem that I can hardly read whole sentences. Taking out a paper that catches my eye, i skim it, finding words that I actually do understand and take the liberty of trying to make sense of the mixed up small words. I can't do much about that.

I decide to do the unthinkable and go and get Danielle, even though it might be rude to interrupt her and her escort. I leave the room and go out to the gardens. It's not raining today but it is cloudy, perfect to fit my mood. Unsure if I have to break out a storm or not. It takes a while until I get to the gardens but I do and spot them over on a bench. I feel anger boil in me as I see the Sir try to advance on Danielle. She's trying to push him away and I try to get over there as soon as possible. His hand is over her mouth, keeping her from screaming out as he holds her arm tightly. I lose the crutch and ignore the immense pain in my leg. I stumble along and just when he sees me, my fist connects with his face. He flies backwards off the bench and into the rose bushes. He screams in pain and I almost do to when I my leg gives out from the pain. Danielle is up in a second, helping me back to my feet, my crutch being slipped back under my arm. I gladly lean on it but I do not let my agony show as I take care of her, "Are you alright?" she nods, but tears are pricking her eyes. She gives me an embrace

"You came just in time. Thank you…" she murmurs gratefully.

"That's two you owe me," I tease and I feel her smile. I let go of her just as the other guy gets himself out of the bushes, covered in thorns. I feel a swell of satisfaction of seeing such a jerk like him in a state like this. It almost makes me glad I'm not so high up in society so that I can mess up without looking too bad. He gives me a glare, small scrapes and drops of blood are coming from his face, it'll be like that for a while until they heal. He has no real proof that it was me. The only other witness was Danielle but I doubt she'll side with him.

"How dare you," I also notice at this point that his nose is bleeding too. Now I'm just plain swelling with pride. It seems my hits have been rather effective lately. I'm glad. Society doesn't need people like him and Jack around. They're too caught up in what they're doing. of course, its only my first impression of this guy and if he really wants to change my perspective of him, he'll have to do something to really amaze me.

"How dare you," I challenge, "Almost dispersing a lady's honor like that. What a gentleman you are," I mutter to myself but they both heard it. Danielle has masked her face of happiness to see me. I understand and am not offended. I'm actually glad that this prissy-boy hasn't yet deduced that we know each other already. I'm pretty sure, as well, that he didn't see us hug. I'm hoping he didn't anyway. He lunges for me but I sidestep and he falls all over himself. I grab Danielle's hand and we make a break for the house. The other guy must be pretty dang slow or doesn't care because we get there without any complications. I sneak around the servants staircase before getting to the guest wing. It still takes a while, as does everything these days, but tht's when she asks a question.

"Why are we all the way over here? Shouldn't we go to the main part of the…" her question dies her her throat as I open my door and go inside, I gesture for her to follow. I know it is highly inappropriate for me to bring a woman into my room (much less if anybody saw this) but I have to get her to read the documents, no matter how embaressing it will be telling her that I can't read. She hesitates a moment before looking around for anybody before darting into the room. I shut the door and grab my satchel again, "The reason I brought you here was because I need you to read something for me. I think it might have something to do with your mother's murder," It probably hasn't fully sunk into her about what happened last night but once it does I hope I don't have to deal with her greif, no matter how selfish that sounds.

She takes the folder with a confused stare, "Why can't you just read them?" I don't answer her as she flips it open. Then it probably dawns on her, "You can't read, can you?" All I do it shake my head, "No matter. I'm just glad you came to me with these. But...where did you get them?" I don't give her an answer, I just gesture to it and she lets the question go as she begins to reads it out loud, quitely of course because I highly doubt that people can't hear us through the walls.

"_Date: June 23rd 1771_," Danielle read off at the top of the page, "_Contract of those pertaining to the shipment of stock delivered to unknown locations. Verification is still an ongoing process as what were inside the crates that were delivered. Where they are now has not yet been confirmed. Speculation that surrounds it says that it was carrying illegal weapons-_ What?" This was probably making absolutely no sense to Miss Murray over there but it did to me. This heist has been being planned for several months now. The cargo probably was an illegal shipment of false identities and illegal weapons. This was somewhat of proof thay Sir Murray has been up to no good in the months past. I can't tell Danielle this or she''ll just deny the whole thing and then she'll be mad at me for even suggesting such a thing. She doesn't have to know where these documents came from.

I'm pretty sure at least...


	7. Chapter 7: Rumor

**-Chapter 7- Rumor**

**Danielle's POV**

**Two Days Later**

It's been three days now from when I turned eighteen and, I have to say, it sucks being eighteen. You can't do anything because now that I'm a woman, everything I do has an outcome. Aunt Rachel told me she will let me mourn for a week before starting on my etiquette lessons. Not looking forward to that at all. In other news, Mama's funeral was yesterday evening, and for friendly support Antonio had come. Traditionally the family members in mourning would not be allowed to speak to anyone not related to them but I squashed tradition for that day.

Mama wouldn't have cared. She loved me, my sister, and brother the way were are (and in Matthew's case, 'were') not the way she wants or plans us to be like. She wanted us to follow our own path and seek what we truly want. She told me all that when I was little but I didn't understand it then. Now that I look back on it, I see that she was preparing me to face this harsh and cruel world. And cruel it is indeed. It has taken my brother and mother all in the span of a month.

Father has become withdrawn since it happened, sending me into someone elses care while he works with investigators. It seems we are both unconcerned with protocol and such. I know he deals with his grief in a different way than I do. He delves into his work harder, and I try to forget it by being emotionless. Angel had pointed that the differences the day we buried Matthew. I feel tears prick my eyes as I think about that day. I don't want to disrespect my brother's memory, but crying over the dead won't bring them back. I carry on with my crocheting in the sitting room. Eunice and Courtney are on opposite sides of me in different chairs with their own activities. Eunice is crocheting like me while Courtney is reading. Maria and her mother are upstairs having a talk. I swear that I heard raised voices but I hope nothing has gotten too out of hand. Perhaps I should go check on how my cousin's lessons are going.

"Don't even think about it."

Right. I forgot out about her.I loom up from my work and to the woman standing behind my chair. Miss Prudence is an old hag who specializes in traditions and etiquette. She had pale skin and silver hair. Her eyes are a withered brown and her posture is curling-rod straight. Prudence is an old friend of Aunt Rachel who hired her to come and 'fix me up' as she so blatantly put it. I just hope no one else ever has to undergo her scrutiny. "Think about what, exactly?" I raise a brow, "You meant the way that one long hair still hasn't been plucked from your right eyebrow?" her hand flies to it, feeling around for it. Once she finds the one I mentioned she pulls out a pair of tweezers from her hand-purse and takes it out immediately. She puts the pair of tweezers back and gives me a hard stare.

"I will remind you again, and only once, that you do not point things out on a person even if it should be changed. That isn't for something to say in public, especially not when you are a guest at a Lord's house," she smooths her purple skirts out and leaves the room with a haughty walk. I mimic her by silently moving mouth mouth. I get a small smile from Courtney but an annoyed huff from Eunice. I don't get what her problem it. Then again she's just like all those other sticklers out there. Always 'by the book' as they say.

I put down my crocheting, trusting the maids to put it back in my room while I take a walk. Aunt Rachel and Miss Prudence probably wouldn't approve of me going off by myself without an escort but so long as I can get away from them, I won't do what they say. Maybe one day I will but for the moment, no.

I've noticed Antonio has been distracted for the past few days since I read him the document. He won't explain to me what it was for or who gave it to him. I have a suspicion that he might have stolen it. And that bit about the part where he can't read shocked me to the core. I'm just glad he trusted me enough to let me in on his secret. It probably is difficult for him to hide his inability. Perhaps I could teach him how one day.

It's funny how irony works because just as I round a corner, I bump into Antonio who is hobbling down the corridor. I had just been thinking about him and then he pops out of no where. Irony, right? "Antonio!" I exclaim, surprised by his sudden appearance, "I didn't think you would be up by now." It's nearly mid morning but he is wounded so I would have thought he would sleep longer to keep his strength up.

"Early riser," he explains simply with a small shrug. He goes to leave but I catch his arm and he waits.

"Antonio, I actually was meaning to talk to you," I let go of him when he glances at my hand, some color coming to my face, "I need to know what's going on here. Why are you so distracted? What is so special about a report that has you avoiding me at every turn? And where did you get that folder anyway?" His mask that he had seemed to be wearing fell apart and looks around before moving us off to the side and then whispering.

"Look, I didn't want to tell you this, or anyone," He glances behind him and then back to me, "I took it from your father's study back at the house, but-" I feel rage and betrayal buble in me and before I can even speak to him my hand flies up and smacks him hard across his face. I hear him mutter about not deserving that or something and then about a 'Jack.' I leave the hall but I hear him coming after her. How dare he? I put my trust in him and now I find out he is actually a traitor and a thief!

"Danielle, come on! Let me explain," I don't want to talk to him right now, "It's not what you think! Come on, giv- give me five…minutes to- to explain." He is out of breath, I can tell, but I still do not turn around, "Come on, please." The urgency in the last plea stops me for a moment. I feel like I am missing a part of a puzzle right now.I turn around quickly and glare at him. I raise an sharp finger.

"Five minutes, not a minute more."

"Alright, but, um," he looks around at all the people going to and from this corridor. He starts looking for something and, conveniently, right beside us on my right is a closet door. When no one is coming he opens the door and steps in and I go in with him. I don't trust him right now but if I don't get the whole story than I might be angry at him for no reason. Stupid logic, I curse it in the my head.

"Alright, so, I don't fully understand what is going on myself but I have an idea on what," leans on the door while putting his crutch down, "Three days before your birthday, the day you left, one of the servants working for your father had written me a note telling me that there were a few documents in his upstairs study that he forgotten to get. Since I couldn't read it very well I assumed he wanted me to bring it to him personally. It told me the address of this place. But when I went up to the study there was a man in there," he paused for a breath, I don't know what to think quite yet, "I um, I had killed his father once upon a time- now don't freak, alright? I've done things in my life I'm not proud of, everyone has," I nod, closing my mouth that had opened to ridicule him, "This man had warned me that I should be careful, on which side I am on. I don't see why he would inform me of that but with what happened at your birthday I am not sure what I had to do.

"The man told me that I shouldn't give the documents to your father for some reason and with the way he's been acting lately, I had to get someone to read it to me before I completed my impressions of him. That's where I had to get you to help me. Danielle, I think the attempt on Lord Murray's life is more than that. Someone is planning something, big. I don't know where taking your sister as hostage comes in but they might have done that to get some money off your father and uncle. There are still some things I am not quite aware of yet but I swear I won't stop until I do know."

I stand there in silence for several minutes, trying to filter all this through my brain. It's possible he is lying to me and is very clever to come up with this on the spot, but, I feel it in my gut that he isn't trying to fool me. This is the truth, just as I wanted. I feel like he is still hiding some things, but I am sure they aren't very crucial to this investigation. I slowly nod, processing it now, "I…" I take a deep breath and nod again with assuredness, "I believe you. I'm sorry I slapped you, it's just...I don't know, family habit I guess." Antonio smiled coyly.

"And its a family habit of mine to be slapped." I don't know what this means but I giggle anyway at the irony. He laughs too but steps backwards and knocks something over, but when he steps forward again its on his injured leg and he topples on to me. When he rights himself we are very close, we breath the same air now. I stare into his eyes and I know he is doing the same. That's when he hear the door open and as quick as we can we steps apart, I know he is hiding a grimace from the way his jaw is locked. Our head fly to the door where a maid stands there shocked, "Miss Murray! I-I apologize for the, um, intrusion," she glances at Antonio, she curtsies to the both of us, "Madam, Sir," and then quickly closes the door. I groan loudly.

"I'm going to get it if word of this gets out."

"What makes you think it will get around?" I glance at him when he says this, I give him a look.

"A maid saw us, and maids gossip on a regular basis. This is probably the juiciest thing they've come across in a long time. It's going to spread like wildfire!" I open the door and quickly step out and cross to the to the other side of the corridor, straightening my follows, closing the closet door on his way out.

"I'm sorry if I've doomed us both to ridiculation. I didn't mean it," I brush off his apology.

"Maids can always be paid more to keep quiet about certain things. But with this many guests around, rumors are going to catch on. Quickly."

"The closet was the closest thing I had to hide our conversation, just so you know." I notice he actually has his crutch back just then, but I nod at his words and say goodbye for today.

"I guess I will most likely see you again tomorrow?"

"Of course, Danielle," He looks down the hall and then I follow his gaze. We see a maid talking to my aunt, gesturing frantically while Aunt Rachel tries to keep her calm. I definitely in trouble. I don't even want to know what Miss Prudence will say. I turn back to Antonio.

"You should probably leave before you get in trouble too. I pretty sure you don't want my uncle taking that sack of gold away from you," I remind of the bag he showed me the other day. I he subtly nods and I shoo him away from here. He walks around a corner just as Aunt Rachel comes storming down the hallway. She yanks on my wrist and pulls me along, giving me no time to protest as she shoves me into a private sitting room. It is empty right now. That's when she unleashes her fury. If I'm being honest then I will say that I don't even listen to half of her rant as she goes on and on about the impropriety of it all. Then all of a sudden it stops and I look up at her. She has her eyes closed and her shoulders squared. She is trying to calm herself down.

She opens her eyes a moment later and gives me a stern look, "Are one lucky girl that that maid had any sense to come to me first instead of gossiping about it all. If this gets out, you father and uncle's name- your name- will be put to shame. No one will do business with you of any sort and then you will be reduced to beggars on the street! I will not be made into something like that ever again. Am I clear?" I nod quickly. I do understand. She turns to go but then looks at me again. She walks up to me and we are eye level, "Danielle, tell me something. What do you even see in that boy? What is making you go so far as to be in a closet with him?"

I think about it myself. We weren't doing anything in the clset other than just talking. But I will not let out that there is someone out there planning something that is much bigger than her. I don't need to worry her more. But as my thoughts drift to her first question, I finally look into it fully. What do see in him? He is very handsome (something I had noticed right on), he is caring, and...there is something there that he needs to let out, something that is making him feel immensely guilty. I know he killed a man, but...why did he kill him? There has to be a specific reason. But I know there is something more than just that. I hear him mutter about someone named 'Jack' all the time. Perhaps they knew each other a long time ago?

Aunt Rachel is still waiting for an answer. I decide to tell the truth, but only part of it, "He...he has admirable qualities in his personality and he has saved me on many occasion, Aunt. He is stunning in his own way, he is rich in a way that you would never understand, and he- he cares about things that some people just dismiss." That about sums it up.

She seems to think over this for a few minutes and then finally nods slowly, almost sadly "Actually, I do understand what you mean," She walks over to the nearby window behind the sofa, "Before I married your uncle, I had developed a fancy on a young scribe working for the Lord of Justice in his village. I would go to the library every day just to see him as he practised his writing. I would watch him for hours until I would notice the time and hurry home. But...as we grew older that small fancy turned into something more. We fell in love," she looked at me, tears glistening in her eyes, "When I was sixteen we planned to marry when I became of age. But in my seventeenth year, my father was sentenced as a thief and a murderer. I don't know why or how, but all I knew was that after the court session, I was shunned from the village. My own love, he-" she couldn't continue. I can see where this is going.

"He shunned you as well, instead of going with you?" she nodded as she wiped the tears that now fell down her face. I walk over to her and wrapped her in a hug. I had no idea that it had been that bad. I know that her family had been poor when she was growing up, but I didn't know she had been shunned from her own home, " They had no right to judge you for what your father had done."

I let go of her as she pulls away and looks at me, "So you see why I don't want you to try falling in love? It only hurts you where it does the most. Your Heart," she wipes the tears away with her handkerchief. I pat her back.

"Aunt Rachel, if you did not fall in love again, how are you married to Uncle Jeremiah?" I ask her once she has calmed down. She laughs sadly.

"It was arranged of course. He was a young man, studying law in the university here in London. An older well-off couple had taken me in and sent me to school there, to you know, find a husband. Jeremiah and I met and my foster parents invited him and his family to dinner. That's when I met your father. He was only about sixteen then," she paused a moment, "After that one night, it seemed, my foster father and your grandfather set up a marriage between us. Your grandfather, the first Lord Murray, was a kind man and didn't bother to tell anyone of my past even though he knew. Jeremiah didn't even find out until after Eunice was born. But we have grown...very fond of each other in our years together," She covers my hand with her own, "What I'm trying to tell you is that if you are going to fall in love, don't do something you'll regret. Everything you once knew will wipe away."

I almost start at that statement. But I realize that for the past month, everything I have known has been slowly wiped away into something foreign to me. And it scares me. I look down, "Our lives have already begun to change, Aunt Rachel. Your's too," I pause for a moment, "Some things cannot be prevented because...maybe they are meant to be, meant to happen," I head for the door, "I promise I'll be careful, but, you can't control everything that happens in my life." I leave.

I find Maria outside the door, listening in.

Her audible gasp makes me quickly take her by the arm and run down to another room, this time a dining area. I really don't feel like having her be in trouble with her mother right now. Especially because she is a bit...uneasy. I stare, wide eyed at my little cousin.

"What do you think you were doing?" she is still, albeit a bit stunned, "How much did you hear?" this brings me to her attention and her eyes grown even wider (if that's even possible)

"Were you really in a closet with Antonio?" she demands, putting her hands on her hips, "Because of if you were , why didn't you tell me?" she practically squeals, "This is so romantic! Has he given you flowers yet? Oh! A rose would be so pretty,wouldn't it? Or maybe...what's your favorite flower again?" she stops her girlish giggling to ask me this. I feel a bit taken aback.

"Um, I-I don't really have one…" I feel a little bit unsure about this conversation. How is she so excited? Then again, she is a twelve year old girl just entering her teen years. "Can we not talk about this right now? You're just lucky your mother didn't catch you outside the door. You probably wouldn't have gotten out of that one alive," I divert the subject, steering clear of anything related to Antonio.

Maria looks a little deflated but she brushes it off with a shrug, "Negative attention is still attention. Would you want to sit for hours on end in a dead silent room with two of the most stiff sisters ever?" I shake my head in agreement with her statement. Then again, to have any sister near me right now would be a blessing.

"I would prefer to have Angel with me right now, instead of not being with her," I am being forced to do so right now. The worst of it is that I have to overcome my grief by myself. Father is far too busy, Angel is a hostage, and Mother and Matthew are dead.

My family is broken.

I come to the realization quite suddenly and it pains me to acknowledge the truth of it all. I sit down on the one of the chairs at the table and close my eyes to rest them. Maria come and puts a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't say anything, just stands there with a comforting hand. I want my mother with me here, now. I want Angel to come home. And most of all, I want my brother back…

I wallow in my sorrow as a few tears slip out and soon it is a stream coming down my face. I sob, quietly so I won't alert someone outside. I cry for a while, letting my grief out finally, before Maria starts rubbing my shoulder and then I feel her plop down in the seat next to me.

"You..." she pauses. I open my eyes and look at her, "You're not alone. You still have a family, and families stick together through anything. At least, that's what I think." She takes a handkerchief out of one of the pockets in her dress. She hands it to me and I wipe my eyes. I haven't gotten mine back from Aunt Rachel yet.

I let myself cry for another ten minutes before I am all dried out. We hear my aunt calling out for Maria who sighs and gets up. After the door is closed behind her I lean back in my chair. I want to go home. I've think I've spent enough time in London and it hasn't done any good for me. I stand up with the intentions to find my father but when I trip on my dress the chair falls. I make myself upright before looking over at it. I groan, the bottom of the chair has come off. I walk over to it, planning to stand it upright when I notice something. I notice something black sticking out of the wrecked area.

I reach for it and pull away the opened area and almost cry out in shock. There's a gun in there! Why is there a gun in a chair? Better question, why is there a secret compartment in a chair?! I timidly pull it out and hold it carefully in my hand. The pistol is rather large, the barrel of it has a piece of paper stuck to it.

When the last light of the day reaches highest peak,

The prancing pony will come from the dark of the tunnel

IX-XIII-MDCCLXXI

The last part is the only thing that is recognizable to me from the riddle. It is todays date, but the actual riddle makes no sense. Perhaps Antonio shall know what this is all about. He seems to be a very smart person. I slip the gun under a fold in my dress and put the chair upright before leaving.

*****ALittleLater*****

I find Antonio after an hour of searching for him. He is in his room (the irony). He is resting on his bed, his eyes open staring at the painting on the wall.

"Tired?" I ask as I slip in, unnoticed by anyone outside of the chamber. He looks at me, surprised almost.

"No," he answers, "Bored and in pain is more accurate."

"Your leg?" all he does it nod.

"Then I have something I need you to help me with," he starts sitting up but I instead walk over and just plop the gun into his lap. He is startled by the sudden weight of it, and probably the fact that it is a gun. He picks it up carefully and turns it over, opening the bullet compartment and the powder chamber. Nothing is in either of them. I then wordlessly hold up the note that came with it, "This was stuck to it when I found it."

He glances up at it and his curious expression turns to an unreadable look, "What's it say?" I read it off to him and he thinks on it for a minute, muttering the riddle around quietly, trying to figure it out. Then a smirk breaks out and he sighs and shakes his head, "This is far to easy."

"What? What is too easy?" I ask him quickly, "You know what this means?" He looks at me and shakes his head, the smirk is still there.

"No but I know who sent the gun, and I know what the first bit of the riddle it. The rest makes no sense," he sits up on the bed and I sit down beside him. He points to the date that are in roman numerals, "I know a man who has a certain fondness for writing strangely. He rolls up the sleeve on his left arm. A few small tattoos are visible and I frown. What would have ever given him the incentive to mark up his skin? I don't continue that train of thought when I see numbers that have been burned into his skin. They are the exact ones that are written on the paper. Now I know what that look was on his face. It was one of familiarity being masked, "Coincidence? I think not," he rolls the sleeve back down to his wrist. I feel like I am staring through the cloth that covers the marks, my gaze has not yet left the spot they are in.

"Did it hurt?"

He looks up at me and frowns, confused, "What?"

"Did. It. Hurt?" I say it slowly and gesture to his arm. The confusion clears up and he nods, he gets a faraway look in his eye.

"Yeah…it did," he buttons the wrist up and then picks the gun up, twirling it around his fingers. He looks at the paper again, "but it was a good reason for the pain. What's the rest of it say again?" I now look at the paper too.

"When the last light of the day reaches highest peak, the prancing pony will come from the dark of the tunnel," I look at him now, "What does it mean? The last light of day is the sun, and the highest peak of it would be midday, but that has already past. Perhaps this has already past and we were too late to discover it?" he contemplates this and then his face lights up.

"No, not midday, midnight! It says the last light of the day, not just the daytime. Midnight is when the moon is at its highest peak!" that makes perfect sense now that someone has explained it.

"How do you know if the moon is the last light of the day- oh...yes, you are right," I gesture to it, "Carry on then." He shakes his head at me before looking back at the note, he points to the the words prancing and pony.

"This here seems familiar somehow," he bites his upper lip, "The prancing pony will come from the dark of the tunnel...tunnel...dark place, shadowy, um, narrow…" he continued to mutter off words related to 'tunnel' and 'dark.' I tried to make sense of what he is saying. Some place dark, narrow, and shadowy. Well, there are far too many places like that. Though only one comes to mind at the moment.

"And alleyway!" I exclaim, the word slipping off my tongue. It is definitely a dark and narrow place, with plenty of shadows to make your skin crawl. He nods vigorously.

"I can't believe I didn't think of that," he smiles at me, "Good job, I might just make a codebreaker out of you yet."

"And like you're much better?" I give a comeback, then I cover my mouth, "I'm so sorry that was insulting. I didn't mean that, honestly. I'm sure you are very good at breaking codes."

He shrugs, the smile still there, "You didn't insult me. I can tell the difference between an insult and just fun teasing. But um, perhaps you could help me with the next one. What is prancing pony supposed to mean?"

"Perhaps it actually isn't a horse at all, but a name of some place," I itch a spot on my hand, "We have 'alleyway' already, this must be where the alleyway is," I look at him, ready to gauge a reaction.

"The Prancing Pony is a tavern not far from here in London. In fact I do believe that is where the search party and I found you after you were knocked out," I blush from embarrassment of remembering my childish behavior in that situation, "So something is going down at the Prancing Pony at midnight tonight," he holds the gun up, "This was probably supposed to be found by someone who actually has use for it, meaning that since he or she did not get the riddle means that they will not show."

"What are going to do? The person that's going to be there tonight might be dangerous. He could possibly get mad that this other one did not show." This is when he smirks.

"Which is why we show up instead."


	8. Chapter 8: Truth

**-Chapter 8- Truth**

**Antonio's POV**

Her reaction was as expected. She protested loudly enough that I had to shush her a few times."I'm going anyway," I tell her, "There's nothing you can do to stop me."

"But you can't go!" she yelled again, I quiet her yet again. Can she not take a hint? I shake my head in annoyance.

"And why not?" I stand up, towering over her, "I may be injured but I have done more with even worse," probably not the smartest thing to say in a situation like this. Our conversations lately have come precariously close to my past, which I am uncomfortable speaking about. I roll my eyes as her exasperation. I get it! I really do. My mother did this to me all the time when she was sick, wanting to do more than she could handle. But I also understand why Ma did that now. There wasn't any other option, "Look, right now we're the only one's who know about this meeting going down tonight- at least that's what I think it is. If we go to the authorities with the information they won't believe us."

She shook her head, "My father will understand. I'm his daughter, and that counts for something. If only one thing it would be trust in me. I don't lie to my family, and when I do its for very good reasons. This is not one of them! My uncle's life is in danger and you want to handle this yourself? You; and injured man who can barely walk without some sort of reaction to pain."

I hate it when other people at right.

But my injuries have never stopped me before and I know how to deal with this one too, "I'm going," I say with finality, "This conversation is over, Danielle. Leave," I can't stand her at the moment, and since it is my room she is the one who has to leave. She can go cool off somewhere else. I don't need her opinions (No matter how valid they might be.) She stands up, a dejected expression on her face. She leaves solemnly and when the door closes behind her I regret my harshness immediately. But I don't let myself dwell on it. Sometimes people just need a straight up front sternness.

My grandfather (Teague or Blackbeard, either one) had that kind of 'sternly respectful' air about him that made no room for arguing. Jack had once told me that when the fourth Brethren Court had assemble, Teague only had to set off one note of his guitar and they had all gone silent. Elizabeth Swann was elected the pirate king, the battle ensued, and then they won. At least that was the sunny side of the story. A great many losses had happened that day, including Uncle Will. Though he may have come back ten years later, it still counted as him dying. At least in my opinion.

Blackbeard on the other hand had the 'fear me' sternness about him that it made people shiver in their boots just looking at him. I, of course, never met him because I was born two years after her died but stories from Gibbs, Jack, and Ma all gave me the impression he had been someone to fear, even in his old age.

I stand up and take the sheets off the bed and stick them in my satchel. I put the black down so that people don't see the sheets gone, but I'm sure that someone will have noticed by the time I get back. I know this counts as stealing, but it actually doesn't if you intend to bring them back. What condition they'll be in, I cannot say. But they will come back.

I pick up my crutch and head out to the gardens where I ask the gardener for two flat pieces of wood. "Why do you need them?" he asks warily. I don't blame him, with the way I look right now. I answer by looking down at my leg and he gets the hint. Some people are actually intelligent around her. Go figure. He hands them to me and I measure them up. They're th perfect fit. I know my leg isn't broken, but a splint willhelp the skin not move so much. The stitches won't tear apart that way. I wrap the sheet around it, before tearing it into strips of cloth. Yeah, okay, when they come back they won't be whole but I need them.

After wrapping my leg up in a private room, I test it out and am pleased that (while I still limp from the pressure) I can walk well enough on it without needing a crutch. I realize that I won't be able to change my bottoms for tonight into something darker than these tan ones, but they'll have to do.

It's only about the middle of the afternoon so I have a lot of time to spare. I spend it trying to recall a mental map of London that I had once seen physically. The 'Prancing Pony' tavern should only be about a mile from here. Taking a horse would hurt far too much getting up on it and getting back down. I opt to take the crutch with me until I am close enough to the alley to throw it away. I can't appear weak or injured in any way in front of an enemy. They'll go for the weaknesses and then where will I be? Probably dead. But my limp with definitely give away from wound. So if it ends up as a brawl then I will be a sitting duck if he so much as hits it in the right spot.

Dinner goes by without an events. I take it in my room and after I have a short nap, but I am only half asleep so that I will not miss my departure time. I haven't seen Danielle for the rest of the day. She is probably off sulking somewhere which I find she tends to do a lot lately. Though, who can blame her? Her mother and brother are gone, and her sister might be soon too.

It seems earlier than it actually is when the grandfather clock in my room chimes eleven times. I have been ready most of the day so the only thing I have to do right now is get outside of the estate grounds. Since Danielle's uncle is a councilmen to the king, he has to be guarded twenty-four hours a day. I don't see how these guards patrolling the grounds are very good because they let an assassin sneak through the premises. The assassin had probably been disguised so they had easily let him in. But with so many faces coming to and from the party, questioning the guards was a useless feat.

I blow the lamp light out just before I leave, walking on my crutch instead of my splinted leg as I have planned. I won't be so much in pain if I walk on my crutch instead of leaving it behind, which would be a stupid thing to do. My satchel in slung over my shoulder and resting on my neck. It has the gun in it, a few strips of the leftover sheet. I take out the sword I had hidden underneath my bed when I had first arrived and strap it to my waist. I might need it at some point tonight for whatever reasons that may come up unexpectedly.

I make my way quietly through the unlit corridors where I find the servants staircase, right where I thought it would be and then climb down them to the ground floor. There is a door to the outside. It leads to the stables where I can pretend to a stable boy finishing up work and just going home. I don't know how to explain the crutch, but I only will have to if I'm caught.

I slink out of the door and close if as quietly as I can without it creaking. They really need to get better doors on this place. I turn around and almost jump when I see someone standing right in front of me, her arms crossed. Danielle. What in this bloody world is she doing out here! I gesture wildly without saying a word and grit out a couple inaudible words that I know only I can understand. They were, "What in the blazes are you doing here."I thought them up in my head after all.

"If you're not staying then I'm coming," she whispers this, I almost have to lean closer to hear it, "I can't let you get hurt even more for this family." She looks at me expectantly now.I don't have time for arguing so I sigh, roll my eyes, and then finally nod. She smiles thankfully and then looks to the front gates across the yard. I shake my head and then point over at the stables where I know my horse is. It actually works out perfect that Danielle is here now. She can ride the horse, she can hold my crutch, and we can glide out of here as delicately as we can. She cocks her head at my suggestion of the stables but follows my lead anyway.

We slip into the stables unnoticed. Larry, my horse, is in the stall nearest to the door. His saddle and bridle are hanging on the wall behind him, Danielle helps me saddle him up as quickly as possible and then just as we are getting the reins into his mouth we hear the door open and a stable boy walks in with a small lantern. We duck down in the stall and are lucky that Larry ducks down. The light passes away from us and I barely let out a it is dark again we hurry and continue with what we were doing, hoping that the boy wouldn't come back anytime soon. I help Danielle up and then convince her that her cloak is far too nice and clean for her to be a maid so I bit up some dusty dirt from the ground and fling it all over her cloak. She is okay with this and even lets me rip it in some places for it to be convincing. I see that some of her bruises from her runaway episode are still there but somewhat gone, but I still rub a little dirt on her face just for precaution. My own clothes are always in some way dirty, no particular reason why, just that they are. I nod at her, she's good and I send my crutch up with her and then we depart the stables.

It's a tense atmosphere when we get to the gates. The guards on patrol there stop up just as I thought they would. I gesture to Danielle, "Bertha here I and just finished ours work for de day," I put on a random fake accent that makes no sense to me but it makes me seem poorer than I am. Which is actually saying something because I am a relatively poor man. Its the honest to good truth, "Been a long day fo' both o' us, Sir. We best being gettin' on ours way befo' sunup." I think they're going for it, but I don't really care to hear the odds right now either.

"Well, um-" the guard looks like he isn't sure what to do, "I guess it'd be alright to let you go on home." The pressure in my leg is already starting to get to me. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to hold up without my guard nods to the other man and together they open the gate wide enough for us to exit. I lead the horse calmly out of the estate and listen as they close the gates up. They fell for it, thankfully. Once we are a safe distance away Danielle hands me my crutch and I thank her profusely for holding on to it.

She continues to ride Larry until we reach about a block away from the Prancing Pony. I'm not even sure that there's something going down tonight or not there. If not then I'm going to get a good drink, maybe stay at the tavern for the night. Then again, Danielle is with me so I will have to return her to the estate before the sun is up or someone will think she has run off again. I just hope there is something we can do tonight that will help the investigation. But if we go to the authorities after this if we have evidence they will ask us where we got it and I can't exactly say that I snuck out of the estate with a wounded leg, walked about three miles on a crutch, and on to of that I took Sir Murray's daughter with me! How well will that go over?

I tie larry up to a post in the front of the tavern where I pay a woman to watch it for me. The low chest-lined dressed woman had tried to seduce me but, even though Danielle whacked me on the head, I wasn't interested in the girl anyway. We wait on the side of the lively place until we hear something in the alley. I feel like this is all going far too easy for us. There's got to be some kind of trap waiting for us, somewhere! I take a peek into the alley. It's dark and quiet, musty and filthy, just as it should be. I frown when I see a shadow in there. I take my sword out and cautiously walk into the alley (more like limp, but I'm not being technical.) Danielle sees what I'm doing and follows after me.

When I get to where I saw the shad0w, we are farther in than what I would prefer to be. But beggars can't be choosers. I hear something and quickly turn around, expecting to have a gun pointed at my face. Instead, there's only a small cat there. It meows at me before scampering off. I lower my sword and sigh in frustration. That's when I hear the cock of a pistol behind me. There's the gun that I was expecting. I slowly turn around and am face to face with Markus Schreave. So much for the element of surprise. Needless to say I was expecting him to be one of the men here tonight. I was right indeed. I put my sword on the ground and make a point of not looking at Danielle. Markus doesn't need to know that she's here. I raise my hands in surrender. Probably the smartest move right now until I can get the drop on him. I know that there are King's Men patrolling the streets of London so I have to be quick and quiet about this.

"I see you got my note."

Now I am confused. What in the world does he mean by that? Was that riddle actually intended for me, or was he just saying that to throw me off balance? I stare him down, not giving him an inch. He just chuckles and starts circling me, I follow suit.

"Cat got your tongue, Sparrow?" he asks with a sarcastic tone. I grit my teeth at what he just called me, "I would have expected some sort of come back from you by now? It was certainly like that a few days ago." I don't show any form of recognition. This is too close to my past. TOO CLOSE. We continue to circle each other until my sword is back at my feet. The opportune moment has arrived. I kick his shin (kind of low to do but I have to work with what I got) and then grab the pistol from him. I get my sword up off the ground and hit him across his face with it, leaving a faint trail of blood on his face. He stands back up straight again and then starts laughing of all things.

"What?" I ask tightly. He just laughs harder.

"You! Still such a pirate it seems," he grins, "What did it take for you to get into that party? A few slit throats perhaps, possibly a disguise? Throw in that Sparrow flare and seduce a few women to lend you clothing," My blood is currently on a high boil. My knuckles gripping the handle of my sword is. Danielle can't hear this! Why did I bring her along in the first place? I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart and twitching nerves. I bring my sword closer to his throat and he raises his hands, "Woah, slow down there. We have much to discuss before you kill me. Or," he whips out a sword of his own before I can react and clashes it with mine,"I kill you first."

"Antonio is not a pirate, yo-you...scoundrel!"

I groan in frustration now. This was not part of the plan. Then again I am just making this up as I go along. Markus' head turns in the direction of Danielle and he glances at me, "A new Bonnie Lass already? Toni, you work fast. I see why you didn't care when I mentioned Lumina." How in the world does he even know about her! he wasn't there when she died- wait. Was he that scrawny deck washer that Jack hired somewhere in Tortuga the last we were there before setting out? What was his name again? Um...oh, its on the tip of my tongue. It started with D, I know it. Forget it, I'll think of it later.

"She is not even close," I told Markus. She would never come close to Lumina in any way, shape, or form, "But you will leave her alone regardless," his sword which he had lowered when Danielle had spoken up gives me an opening to attack, which I do. I swipe at his arm, making him cry out in pain when I rip the skin open. He looks up at me, blood still trailing down his face from before.

"Still got it in you, Sparrow?" he grimaced as he tried to stand up straight again. I drop the sword and punch him in the face. Danielle screams, I give a split look at her and Markus but focus on Markus for the time being. I took out one Schreave. What would taking another one out be to me? Nothing!

"Is it true, Antonio?" I hear her voice, frightened. Markus isn't getting up right now, nursing his now broken nose while he lays on the ground. He is bloody and beaten. I look over at Danielle. I know what she is asking but I cannot tell her everything right now. "Is it?!" she yells, tears threatening to spill over. My silence is probably enough for her because she practically explodes, "You're a pirate! You're one them, the ones who took my sister from me, who killed my mother, aren't you?"

I give her a sharp look, "I am not discussing this right now with you," I pause and glare at her with a defeated look, "I am going to deal with this scum, then I am going to take my horse, and leave. Alright? Happy?" I turn my attention back to Markus, "Afterall, if I have pirate in my blood, why not spill other blood?" I raise my sword, intent on killing the man before me. I hear Danielle cry but I block her out. I have betrayed enough people in my life to know what it feels like myself. If she had been a true friend she wouldn't have cared where I come from or who I used to be. Then again she actually thinks I'm still a pirate. But...I-I swore that I wouldn't become like my father. What I'm doing right now…

I shake my head form my thoughts, but instead of bringing down my sword on this man, I pull my pistol up and shoot him in his abdomen. he shouts in agony. That will teach him to stay out of my life. I lower my pistol, my eyes never leaving the pained man before me. He deserved it. He can pay with his life for the debts his father owed me. Markus Schreave the first had died far to quickly for my liking.

I stumble backwards and realize with a start how I am thinking right now. What am I doing? This is exactly how Schreave wanted me to react. I'm acting like a bloodthirsty pirate. The only one in my family that was like that was my grandfather, Blackbeard, and even then he only killed a man every now and then to protect his reputation. I drop my weapons and lean on the wall behind me. I slide down to the ground and cover my eyes. I can't believe this is happening to me...what have done?

All that happens around me next is a blur, like its all happening rather slowly. I am lifted up by two strong men shouting, I catch a flash of red, white and black in my haze. King's Men have arrived. Danielle is standing there off to the side, her face red from crying. I can't believe what I have done to her tonight. This is worse than I could have ever imagined. I've imagined a lot of bad things in my life, and most of them were real. But seeing that look on Danielle's face reminded me of how Lumina looked when I last saw her. We were almost at Mystique Cove where our destination was to be. I was down in my cabin getting out of my wet clothes. I was only half dressed when she came in, soaked to the bone herself, her hair plastered to her face. I have quite forgotten how her hair felt on my fingers, it has faded from my memory. She came over to me, angry at me for something that I feel so stupid about. I don't quite remember what it had been but it just seems so unimportant now. She had walked out of there, back into the storm with her eyes glazing over and reddening. She didn't cry often so when she did you felt immense guilt.

When I had gone up after her, we had arrived at Mystique Cove.

In that moment my mind comes back to my head and I find myself laying on a wooden bench behind bars. I bang my fist against the bench hard with a loud roar. I speak in spanish as loud as I can and kick the bars. "Por qué hice eso?! Soy tan estúpido coma para haber caminado a la derecha en el!" I breathe hard and grit my teeth to try and calm myself but something seems to work. I sit down, twitchy, on the bench and squeeze the edge of it with my hands so hard my knuckles turn white. Why had I done that? It was a trap, I should have realized that sooner. He was goading me into coming. He wanted revenge for his father and he finally got it. But I got mine too. He probably won't last the night.

I look outside the bars and down the corridor, leaning on the door. I can't count how many times I've been in a cell before. This time is no different. Of course this time I actually hadn't meant to get myself caught. That last few hundred times were just so that I could prove I was as good as jack. i see now how foolish those attempts had been. He's a pirate. He only notices anything that shiny or worth something. And clearly, I'm not worth anything to him at all. If Ma could see him now she'd give him a couple of good slaps across his face. Everyone knows he needs a good slap these days.

I lean my head against the stone wall of my cell and take another deep breath. I run a hand through my hair with grunt when I come across some knots. When did this all go so downhill? Probably when I so stupidly said that I could do this by myself. Trying to prove myself has always been a problem for me. I always want to look good in front of people, even if that meant having a reputation amongst pirates. Hiding in Jack's shadow was a problem too, at least up until after Lumina died and I disowned him as my Father. I've said this many times before and I'll say it a hundred times again that I had never wanted to see his face ever again. It's stupid of me to wish anything that's related to him could ever come true.

I hear the clang of keys against each other as the guard walks up and down the dark hallway, only lit by a few torches lining the walls. I watch as he goes up the stairs for a shift change and decide that's when I should act. An old trick was taught to me by my friend William. He told me that if the cell doors are half pin barrel hinges then with the right leverage the door would lift free. Sometimes I don't even get how he knows this stuff. I look at the hinges and find that they are the right type. Perfect. But at the moment, I don't really even care if I escape. I could use some time to myself, use these precious silence to think out a new plan. Perhaps I should just go back to the Caribbean, see William again, find a job and then get back up on my feet. But I swore I would never sail the sea again so long as Lumina was dead. She will be forever so I will forever stay off of it.

I half heartedly pull the bench over to the door and put the legs underneath a few squares in the door. Then I pull up harshly and the hinges lift off of the frame. Easy as pie even when you're not trying. The door falls backwards, making a large bang! I put the bench back and then step over the bars. Free again. I find my sword, hat, and pistol in a trunk in a back room. I slip them all on and leave the room but then run into the new guard for the hour. He goes to shout but I silence him, a strong hit to his from the barrel of my pistol is all it takes to knock him out. I tuck it back into my belt and go out into the corridor of cells.

I take my sword out now and ready myself for an onslaught of guards but all is quiet, except for the prisoners begging me to help them out. I ignore them completely and make my way to the staircase going up. I'm pretty sure that this is not the Tower of London because many people have no idea who I am. The good thing about living beneath Jack's shadow of fame. I think of this while I head up the stairs to the top level of the prison. it's still dark out, that will make it easier to get out. I'd day, by the position of the moon, its almost nearly dawn. That means I was out of it for a while. Not good.

I sneak behind the perimeter and then behind a few guards. But that's when the alarm is raised. Someone must have seen my cell open. I know it was going to happen eventually but just not this soon. I stole past guards like I belong here. I probably do, but in a cell and all...forget those thoughts. Focus. A few rush at me, swords drawn and I take them out easily. I wasn't taught by the best swordsman I know for nothing. Plus being a blacksmith's apprentice for a few months does help improve your knowledge of steel and their weaknesses. The sun is just starting to rise so my darker clothing is more noticeable. I jump up on to a half wall and avoid being stabbed by almost an inch. I step on to the guy's head and then back on to the ground safely, taking out a few others with my sword. A few of them have provided a challenge for me but I run from those one's, seeing as I don't have very much time left to get out of here. Perhaps it is time to go back to Caribbean, the soldiers there are so...,much...easier...to fight. I am starting to run out of breath now from running so much. Sprinting hasn't always been my best skill.

I finally reach the prison's gate and start scaling it. That is when I start to feel the immense pressure in my leg. The splint is still on it but it's been on for far too long. My leg is probably starting to lose the feeling in it which is why there is so much pressure and- ow! Pins and needles, pins and needles! Its starting to buzz and fall asleep which I know is definately not good.

They shoot at me and I am forced back on to the ground where I am now surrounded by guards. I am forced to sit on the ground to try and catch my breath. They have their pointed guns right up in my face so I instead lie down and give up on trying to get away.

After all, a traitorous pirate like me deserves to be behind bars.


	9. Chapter 9: Trial

**So, I have a bone to pick with you people. Why is it that whenever I work my button off on writing a story it just gets NO attention, while whenever I write a lazy 2000 word chapter it gets a bazillion views? I love hearing from you people, and putting this on alert would make sure that you never miss an update. Just thought I would throw my comments out there for ya'll to think over. I don't mean to sound desperate, but I feel incredibly let down by the meager amount of attention that this has received. **

**-Chapter 9- Trial**

**Danielle's POV**

I feel partially numb.

I dare not think of anything that has occurred tonight or I might just break down. Instead I focus on how filthy I look in front of my family. They had all been awaken at this terrible hour when some of the King's men had escorted me home after I had proved to them that I was Lord Murray's niece. They hadn't believed me until I had made them take me to the manner. they had my family woken up and they had confirmed that I was who I said I was. Which now led to me standing in main room, in a filthy cloak and ripped dress. May face was still dusty from the light dirt that An- The Pirate had put on my face.

"What have you to say for yourself, Young Lady?" Uncle Jeremiah started, he looked extremely disappointed in me. I lower my head, feeling shameful at the moment. I fiddle with a tear in my cloak. "Speak up," he ordered.

"I...I-I didn't know that he- that he was a pirate…" I close my eyes as I say this, images of the Pirate hurting that man, wounding him and then finally the shot shot that had rung out. The truth of it all made my eyes brim with tears. No wonder he had been so distant when we had first met. He was planning for my Uncle's death and instead got my mother killed. He must have gotten someone else to do the shooting. Saving Uncle was only to get in my good graces, I believe. He probably even planted that note himself, making me believe that we could actually find out who the murderer was when it turns out he had been the mastermind all along.

"No," Uncle told me, "No that is not what I meant. Why had you gone gallivanting around in the middle of the night with a stranger?" the vein in his temple was starting pop, as was father's who had been silent up until now. He sighed deeply, in frustration probably and then ran a hand over his beard, "I am a council member, Danielle. Which means that there are dangerous people out to get me and anyone who associates themselves with me. I would have thought you knew that. Knowing me puts your life in much danger, You are lucky that nothing serious happened to you." I don't know why he is the one scolding me when Father is the one who should be doing so. I sneak a glance at him. He has his back to me and his hands on his hips, almost shaking, most likely from anger.

Maria sobs before anyone can say anything more and runs over to me, wrapping her smaller arms around my waist. I hug her back immediately, placing my chin on top of her's, planting a small kiss there. She continues to cry in my arms, muttering like mad. Father turns around and gives me a look so I know now that I am in deep with this one. It was hardly two weeks ago that I had run away last. i didn't get in much trouble for that except for a scolding which I do not believe did much. I drop his gaze and concentrate on consoling Maria. I step away from her for a moment and nod to the members of my family before speaking harshly to them, "I might have put myself in danger but I believed I was doing the right thing. I understand that trusting that pirate was a nearly fatal mistake on my part, but I will have you know that no one is doing anything to get my sister back, to find out why and who had killed my mother. He gave me a chance that no one offered me before so I took it. I am sorry if I wanted to help and not feel useless. I'm sorry!" and with that, I take Maria's hand and the two of us brush past them and then up the stairs to my room. I nearly collapse on my bed but my pent up energy is keeping me upright.

"Don't ever go away again, Dani!" Maria cried, her cheeks red from the tears. I hug her again with both arms and we stand there in the doorway holding each other. I rub her back to relieve some of her stress that she is holding but she continues to sob for the next five minutes. By the time she comes out of my arms, my dress has tears on it. She sniffs a few times as she wiped her eyes. She looks at me a few minutes, sniffing again every now and them. Then she hugs me one more time, and then leaves again without another word. I sigh and nod to myself.

I go into my room and shut the door behind me. I lean against it for a brief moment. How did everything start going downhill so fast? I don't understand any of this! I undress then and get into a bath that had been prepared for me not too long ago when my Aunt saw my appearance. After soaking for a half hour, I get out and redress into a nightgown this time. I tie my hair up and then climb into my large bed. Usually maids would help me dress and such but seeing as it is the middle of the night and they are all alseep, I do it all myself.

Once I blow the lantern out, my broken heart pulls at me, making me remember what has happened in the last few hours. How could Antonio just dothat? So blatantly too, without a second thought. I thought he was different. But it turns out that it was all a lie, a play to do a job. What was he doing it for? Money? That reminds me about his bag of gold that Uncle had given him for saving his life. He didn't deserve a single piece of it! If they have sent him to prison, let him rot!

A sob escapes my mouth, followed by tears, and more hard sobs that rack my body until I start to drift off.

***Morning***

When I wake up just after dawn, I make a resolve that I am not to cry over someone as pathetic as a pirate. My tears are not worth him so they will not be spilled until there is actually something worth crying over. It breaks my heart to have to call him worthless but right now my mind overrules my heart.

Maria brings the chess board into the my room after breakfast, and Courtney actually joins us this morning. I know Father is going to want to speak to me soon but for now I will enjoy this beautiful day (in which the sun is actually shining for once) and be over that...that...pirate seems to be the only insult that comes to mind. In the higher society, calling someone a pirate or any kind of thief was a very big insult. I'm not usually big on insulting people, except when they greatly offend me in some way or another.

"I win."

I look up at Courtney who had been the one to say this. Then I look at the board and realize that she has indeed beaten me already. Maria cheers on her sister, whom she has now formed a new found friendship. I am glad they are rekindling their sisterhood. I only wish I had mine with me right now. I accused my uncle and father last night that they were doing nothing to look for her, and I don't even know if that was true or not. But I haven't seen either of them this morning so I hope they are doing something about my sentiment.

I cannot even imagine what Angel must be going through right now. Torture? Starvation? Just thinking about makes me want to curl up in a ball and hope for the best, which I know is highly unlikely to happen. The best would be that she is completely unharmed, well-fed, and that her entire condition has been healed by some magic force and what not.

Like I said, completely unlikely.

"Great job, Courtney," I smile at my cousin, "Maria. Perhaps you would like to make a go of it against your sister?" I ask this with a hopeful heart. I could use a break from physical activities for a while. I feel extremely tired s of late and I wish to sleep the day away at the moment. But if I do I know I will not be able to sleep tonight.

Maria and I switch places and I sit in between the sisters. I heard from some of the maids this morning that their brother, Johnathan (the unmarried brother), will be visiting tonight. He is studying at the University mostly everyday, is what Eunice told me when I asked how my male cousins were doing. Reginald and his wife were expecting their first baby in the spring, which is good. Johnathan though, he's always been...strange. Not deformed or anything, just a different mindset, which is most likely why he and Matthew got along so well together. Having him around will just be another reminder that my brother is not longer here, sadly. I miss him, really I do, it's just that I wish everything around me would stop reminding me of the dead. Everything seems to make me cry lately. Perhaps it is almost time for my cycle to begin? I already had it this month, though.

When it is luncheon time, everyone is in the sunroom for it, since it is such a lovely day out. Uncle and Father are there, as is Eunice who is looking down her nose at me. She wears heels everyday, that makes her about my height, albate slightly taller. I give her a few looks and then stare at her until she looks away. I make sure that Aunt Rachel isn't watching me and then I giev Eunice a smug look, which she does not return. of course, a glare is sent my way which is discovered by Aunt rachel who scolds rolls her eyes at me and then continues eating. Then halfway through Johnathan arrives and then plops into the seat next to me and grabs a biscuit without a second though. His mother is horrified.

"Did you even think to wash your hands?"Aunt rachel practically screeched. Johnathan only shrugs and takes a bite of his food. I cover my mouth with my hand, pretending to look disgusted but actually snickering behind my palm. I find this relatively amusing for me, since I am not the one (for once) being scolded. Johnathan swallows and then answers.

"Yes, but food seems so much more appealing than spending time in front of the a bowl and pitcher. You should know this by now, Mother," he takes another bite and speaks with his mouth full, "I've told you many times before. Looks like I'm ging to have to tell you agian sometime in the future if you forget this fast," then he takes a swig of the lemonade behind his plate. he looks at me and gives me a cheeky smile before continuing on with his food. Next to Maria, he's probably my favorite cousin. He's funny and never fails to make me at least smile.

I continue to smile as I eat my lunch. He leans over to my ear at one point and whispers, "So who's the lucky man who stole your heart?" I freeze up but don't answer. I stiffly continue eating as if he never said a word. but perhaps…

No. I forbid those thoughts.

I will not allow myself for than a second of thought to be given to that...despicable man. As I contemplate these thoughts, Uncle calls me and Father into another room. I stand up and we excuse ourselves from the room. We go into the card room to the side of sunroom. Uncle turns to the two of use and speaks quietly.

"The pirate had tried to escape the prison this morning," I almost sigh in relief but catch myself before I do. I listen carefully, "but he was caught and taken back to a new cell. His trial has been moved up to today. Of course it is only to review the evidence of his conviction, but should there be enough to convict him, then the hanging will take place tomorrow at dawn," he looks at me, "You are to attend the trial to be the witness of him attacking an innocent bystander. We know what he did because the man told the guards himself."

"Well he's a filthy liar!" I shout and immediately clamp my mouth shut, my face is probbaly white, then I look down and speak quietly, "He is lying because I saw that man attack Mister Teach first." Before father can't even get a word in before Uncle continues.

"I should remind you that his name actually isn't Antonio Teach, but rather Toni Sparrow. The troublemaking and violent son of the pirate Jack Sparrow. Defending him would make you a traitor to the crown so I will pretend that you have said nothing on this matter. You are to attend the trial, my dear, and make a statement against him. Alright?" I sigh quietly but nod in agreement. I do agree that he is a filthy liar and a traitor but a man does not deserve to be convicted without sharing his side of the story. That Markus Screech or whatever his name was had started it first.

I intend to believe that forever, even if my words will convict him indefinitely.

After lunch a few maids take me upstairs to dress me. Father will be attending court with Uncle and I, since he is Uncle Jeremiah's family and all. Aunt Catherine, their sister, would have been here also but she is currently expecting her fifth child so it was nearly impossible for her to cross country in such a short amount of time. Plus is would be dangerous to her health and her unborn baby.

After getting me into a particularly tight corset, and then the dress and accessories to go with it, I am allowed back downstairs where Father and Uncle are standing at the door, another young man with them. I recognize him from the other day, trying to force himself on me. He wears a smug look while he eyes roam over me. Perverted man.

I nod to the gentlemen. I am unlucky that Sir Randolph here is to escort me to the trial. I feel a gag coming on as I am forced to link arms with him. We leave the estate in a carriage to the courthouse where the trial is to be held. The building is attached to the Tower of London so that getting to the courtroom doesn't take so long when escorting prisoners there. At least, that's what I think they did that for. They could have just done it for convenience for time.

The ride there is relatively silent, Uncle and Father making small talk, Randolph adding his opinion every now and then. I lean my head up against the glass window and stare out at the streets as the city passes us by. I can see why Father decided to move to the countryside. It's far more appealing to live in than this place. I miss it...I shift my sitting position as my corset digs into my rib cage. Why did it have to be this tight today? I don't want to pass out in front of the Judge and the court members, nor the jury. I hope I'll be able to get through my speech. I will have three hours before hand to write it down so that I don't make a mistake, which I cannot afford to make.

Not soon enough, the carriage rolls to a stop and the door is opened by a coachman. The men step out and Randolph helps me out and we link arms again. I open my fan and slowly blow my face to give myself more air. Plus Miss Prudence said it was the proper thing for a woman to do in public. It was a way to express a certain way they feel. I don't exactly have all of the patterns down pat but I do know the basics. Jesting with some romantically you just lightly hit the front of their shoulder with a closed fan. Being shy is hiding half your face behind it which i am currently doing but not out of shyness. Resentment is when you turn your face away from a person but keep you fan open and in their face. I will certainly like to be doing that to a lot of people but I would probably horrify my faily is I were to shame them with my resentment towards people.

We enter the courthouse, which I hardly full. I wait in the backroom where I am given a small card with writing on it already. Apparently my speech has already been written for me. Wonderful. Now I have three whole hours to entertain myself or go and socialize with the bureaucrats of society. I would prefer to sit here and wait personally. But since I am to be the witness today, i should probably make myself known as much as possible so that when I do stand, people will at least know who I am and where I stand.

I sigh quietly and get up, exiting the small room and into the corridor, its walls lined with wooden paneling. This place is quite hazardous for a fire since it catches on to wood so easily. I walk down and then into the main room where I see Randolph and a few other younger men. Father and Uncle Jeremiah are talking with a few older men so I actually do decide to sit down instead of speaking to a room nearly filled with all men. There are some women on the upper levels but most are lower class citizens, with whom I have been told strictly to not socialize with. A flash of brown catches my eye and I squint into the upper floor crowd. An middle aged woman stand there, brown skinned might I ask. She has a grey hat around her head and a faded blue flannel top on. She is scanning the crowd. I can tell because of the way her head is going all around the room.

Who is she? I tilt my head and continue to look at her. She must feel my gaze because she looks directly at me then shrinks back into the crowd. I frown. Something is wrong here. And I don't know what it is. I don't like it. Weaving through the mass of people who have now come into the room, the loud chattering, and the warm air is hard to get passed as I go up to the second level. I probably shouldn't be here but I have to know what that dark woman was looking for. I catch a glimpse of faded blue when I get up there but don't find her. Some men stare at me as I make my way down to the ground floor, but I ignore them as best as I can.

It feels like eternity before an announcer comes in and tells us to please be seated. I sit in between Uncle and Father, letting Randolph sit on the other side of Uncle Jeremiah. The doors to our left open loudly and the prisoner is brought forth. A pain hits my heart when I see him. His head is covered but I know its him. His clothes are dirty and his wrists are shackled together. I can't believe I did this to him…

He is pushed up onto the defendants podium. I am to be the prosecutor today, but I just don't see that happening today. I to, though. The announcer speaks to us is a loud and stern voice

"The trial shall begin momentarily for the notorious, outlander pirate Toni Sparrow," I see him feeling uncomfortable with saying just a short kind of name but nobody really knows Antonio's full name so his shortened version is what's most formal at the moment, next to his alias that I know him best by. They would never use his alias, though since this is probably going to be going on the record given that this is a trial of a pirate. Though, really it's just a condemning. Pirates don't get a free trial and Antonio is no different.

When the bag comes off of Antonio's head I nearly grimace with how terrible he looks. His hair is all knotted and messy, dirt is covering his face (probably from sleeping in a filthy cell), and his clothes are rumpled. I see a bruise starting to form on the left side of his forehead which is most likely from being knocked unconscious last night.

We all stand when the judge comes in. Those who have hats on take them off as well. I am a lady so therefore I am not required to stand so I don't. I don't believe this is right for Antonio to be condemned no matter how much I feel betrayed. A fair trial should be given to him in the very least. He's a pirate so a guilty verdict means he will hang. Innocent verdict...I don't believe that is going to happen today. I want to know why he didn't tell me who he really was and what his real purpose here is. Whether it is to help my family or to destroy it, I don't know.

"So you say your name is Toni Sparrow?" the Judge starts. Antonio makes no move to answer him so the prisoner guard hits him in the stomach hard to make him speak. Antonio groans from being hit, the wind seemingly knocked out of him.

"I...find that...highly irr-irrelevant right now," he wheezes. Then he talea a deep breath and stands up straight now, "But yes, that is part of my name. I have a rather long one," he tells us openly, a small smile playing on his...perfect...lips. I dispel all thoughts of my fancy on him to concentrate on the cards I hold in my hands, the words on them that I am to speak. I dare not look at him for my fear of faltering.

The judge seems almost annoyed with this response and is having a difficult time to keep the expression from his face. He looks over a few papers and in that short time frame I give a quick glance to Antonio. I immediately dart my gaze back to the Judge and sit up straighter, my body rigid with tension.

He's looking at me. Straight at me.

I ignore him and try to focus on what the judge is saying. Finally, I am called up at the witness and I hear a few protests from the men around me. Yes, I understand that women aren't equal to men in the world we live in today, but they could still show some propreity. I am a female after all and we are not to be trifled with, us women. I stand behind the podium next to the Judge's chair whom is higher up than I am. I look at the cards in front of me and read them, all the while trying to make them sound like my words.

"I am here to serve as a witness on behalf of justice and law. The crimes found against the defendant who sorely claims to be innocent in the accusations we have labeled him to be. A pirate." I glance down at the cards again for only a moment. This feels wrong but it is the right thing to do, "Last night, I was...I-I was…" I can't bring myself to say the word 'kidnapped' because I had left on my own free will. Sir Randolph steps up after I try to say it again. I feel like glaring at him but I don't have the strength to do it.

"My lords," he looks at the councilmen, and then bows to the judge, "Clearly, Miss Murray is having trouble with her trauma from last night that her wits are not about her. I will gladly take her place as the witness-" I don't allow him to continue.

"Were you there?" I ask him. He stops mid sentence and looks at me, a confused and appalled expression falls across his face.

"I beg your pardon," he says sternly, "But what do you mean exactly?"

"I mean exactly what I said," I pause a moment to gather my wits, "Were. You. There?" He looks around at the people surrounding the room. He seems speechless right now. I would be surprised with myself too for being so bold. This isn't like how women should behave, but I am entitled to my opinion and so I gave it. And freely.

"W-well, no, not exactly but-" he looks me dead in the eye with a nervous and uncertain smile, "Surely you do not mean to continue," he gives a small squeak when I shake my head. He sits back down a moment later and I get a nod from the judge to continue. I don't look at the cards again.

"Near the end of August I met A- Toni Sparrow at my home. He had been hired as a grounds and stables keeper by my father, Sir Murray of London. Toni Sparrow was going by the name of Antonio Teach at the time so I did not recognize his name," I sigh then look at the crowd of people, "Four days ago was my birth day celebration so I invited Sparrow out of friendliness.

"That was night my mother was murdered and the attempt on Lord Murray's life was made. Toni Sparrow saved my uncle's life, as well as putting his own life on the line," I give a small pause in my speech. I swallow, "While he was recovering from his injuries, I found a note and a pistol hidden beneath a chair in my uncle's home. On the note was a riddle of which we solved together, hoping to be able to catch my mother's murderer. I went with him to the meeting spot that night, willingly," I then stop and look at the judge now, "From what I know and have seen, Sparrow has not committed any crimes as of late that should condemn him to death. I realize that yes he is a pirate. But what has he really done as a pirate that has ever hurt anyone except last night?"

A Lord from the second row of the ministers stood and answered my question, "He is the son of Jack Sparrow, a infamous pirate who has been a thorn in the world's side for years."

"And do children get to choose their parents?" this makes him go silent because he knows I am right, as I hope everyone in this room does. I look over at Antonio- or Toni, whatever his name is-, a smile is creeping into the side of my mouth when I see his stunned expression. I bet he thought there was no chance I would help nor save him. But I'm not helping him. I am merely telling these people what I saw and what I believe. Yes, he betrayed me, and I still feel broken because of it. But people do not deserve to die for what their parents have done. I feel like I owe him something, just like he now owes me something. My hidden smile is gone in a moment when memories of his lies come to mind. I bow to the judge and then to the Lords, "Thank you. I hope this evidence helps with this debate. I leave the podium and sit back down in between my father and uncle.

That's when Antonio is suddenly pulled down from his position and at ;least five people in the crowd pull out their swords and go after Antonio. They are all dressed strangely in filthy clothing and their bodies look like they haven't bathed in weeks. Except the woman...in the...faded blue shirt! Chaos erupts as the guards fight back against these barbarians. Everyone seems to sit tight while the fight goes on. A few shots ring out and some guards drop to the ground in heaps. I gasp when I see the barbarians cut Antonio free and they make their escape out the side door. I only catch a glimpse of Antonio as he rushes out, a sword now in his hand. He looks at me as he closes the doors behind him and then they are gone. I hold a hand to my chest to calm my racing heart.

What in the world just happened?

"Come," Father stands up, a hand on the small of my back, "We're going home." He leads me from our seats and to another set of doors.

"Back to Uncle's?" I ask, a slight bit confused by all this. He shakes his head. he must mean actually back home. To our house outside of London. I agree with him that it is time to go back. I have had enough of this city to last me a long while. I don't believe I will be leaving the safety of home for a while once we get back. The only thing I wish we would be going back with is my sister. They still need to find her!

But perhaps once we gain some more semblance, they will have pieced together a plan to get her back. They aren't ransoming her off so she may or may not be being used as a hostage. I don't even want to continue my trail of thought since I will only feel the need to grieve for her. I will only do so when I know for sure that she is dead.

I hope she isn't, though.


	10. Chapter 10: Suspicions

**I apologize immensely for not only not updating for a while, but being pushy in wanting reviews. I feel a little ashamed that I'm pressuring you guys like this and I didn't mean to take my frustration out on you guys. The reviews I have gotten I am grateful for and I'm lucky that this story has gotten a lot of views :) **

**Enjoy! :D**

**-Chapter 10- Suspicions**

**Antonio's POV**

I gave Danielle a single glance as I close the doors to the courtroom with a loud bang. She had no reason to defend me somewhat in her speech but she did so anyway. I doubt she still trusts me as she once did but I don't want it to go out completely either. Some of the trust still being there is better than it being as dry as a desert. I have to explains everything to her at some point but right now is not that time. Getting out of here is my number one priority. The second thing I have to do is figure out why in the world is the Pearl's here and rescuing me of all thing? Another thing is where are Jack and Gibbs? The only pirates I see at the moment is Marty, Cotton (and Cotton's Parrot), and Anamaria.

Wait a second…

I look to the dark skinned, middle aged, woman running beside and do a double take. Since when was Anamaria ever apart of the Black Pearl's crew? Was she just recently added, or something, once again? I've met her a few times in my life but never had I considered her being apart of the crew again someday. Jack once told me that at one point he had stolen her ship and then it was destroyed, that provoked her into hunting him down until Gibbs accidentally hired her to be apart of Jack's crew to go after the Black Pearl when Barbossa had stolen it thirteen years before.

Last I saw of Anamaria, she and Jack were arguing about the ship- The Interceptor- that jack had given her quite a while ago in replacement for her old one. It was a wonder the two pirates were still alive with how much they were at each other's throats. That makes me wonder where Jack is at the moment. Then again, I already asked myself that question. I open my mouth to speak to Anamaria but she shuts me up in a moment as we continue running.

"We can talk when we're somewhere safe, aye?" I send a nod in her direction and we continue on. We meet resistance from some guards but they are quickly overtaken by the four of us. I don't see why they didn't bring more people if we are to break out of the Tower of London! Then again, we're only on the outside of it. Turns out I was wrong in thinking that they hadn't taken me to the Tower of London for holding. They did indeed and here we are now after my pitiful escape attempt. It was going well at first but that quickly went downhill with getting caught and all but I hope that doesn't happen again with me. Trying to escape a prison, I mean.

Once we get to the front entrance, there are about thirty guards. Marty and Cotton seven guards each, leaving me and Anamaria to take on eight each. It's hard work, going round and round trying to take out everyone of them. But we don't even have to take them all down before we can reach the doors and then we're home free. See? It's easy to break out of secure places when you have the right tools to do so. And the right people don't hurt to have either. After getting out, we make a break for the streets, guards chasing after. We split up into groups of two, Marty and I are together on this one. His short and stubby legs make it nearly impossible for him to run very fast so he ends up going piggy back riding on me while he gives me instruction to their place.

It doesn't take me long to notice that he's leading us to the center of the city. There are a lot of winding streets here but it takes a while to lose the guards since they are much faster than the two of us. We hide behind a few barrels as they pass by, unbeknownst to where we are. I pull Marty up with me when I stand again. I throw him a grin.

"Still got the skills, don't I?" he just rolls his eyes and points a finger at me.

"I told you once I don't like that attitude," then a smile breaks out on his face, "But yes, you do still have dem skills," we snicker at this- remembering that fond memory of our first meeting.- I clap him on the shoulder while he hits me in my back. I stumble forward from the force behind it and then we get moving again. The tavern that they were staying at isn't far away according to Marty. Anamaria and Cotton have beat us to it as we see them running inside and we have to quickly hide again when guards round the block, looking all around as people go to and fro among the streets of London.

We go inside once the guards are gone once again and find Anamaria and Cotton (and the Parrot) in a back booth near a back door. Very well thought out. If we have to make a quick escape, that's the way to go. We slide into the seats on the opposite sides of the beaten up looking table, some knife carvings in it on the sides.

"So…" I whisper and lean into the table, "What, exactly, just happened back there?" Anamaria and Cotton glance at each other, then back at me. I raise my eyebrows, "Well? Don't get me wrong, it's good to see you guys but why the suddenly appear like this, and risk getting caught?" Anamaria finally sighed and answered me.

"Ja- Captain Sparrow and Gibbs have been missing for two months," now that was something I was not expecting. I gape at her, my mouth half open and my eyes narrow. How is it that Jack and Gibbs are missing when I saw them two and a half weeks ago, seeing Jack again only last week? She continues, "We scoured the Caribbean but there was no sign of them. We thought we might come looking here. Then we heard about an Antonio Teach's trial. That had to be you. We also thought that you might have an inkling to where they might be."

I feel quite exasperated right now, "How-how is it possible that they're missing? I saw them not too long ago." Her eyes widen. I recall both of the conversations to the three of them and she shakes her head when she finishes.

"Oy, yoy," she sighs and looks at me, "You have to understand that Jack apologizing out of the blue is not in his character. He wouldn't just do that."

"Unless he thought about it for a while," A grumble comes from my mouth, "Which I don't think he does very often," I say this as I remember the storm and what he did. Cotton and Marty nods their heads in agreement.

"The Captain has always been a bit strange," Marty comments and we all nod again. I look back to the dark woman before me.

"What was he doing last you saw him?" Marty frowns, Cotton strokes his beard, and Anmaria averts her eyes. She's the one with the answer I suspect. She doesn't even look at me as she tells Marty and Cotton to leave. They seem confused by this (I can't say anything less than that about myself) but they do as she says and leaves. She sighs and then finally looks at me.

"I don't think your father ever told you this, but he and I have been seeing each other again for the past five years."

I add the numbers in my head and my rage boils up. Jack has been seeing Anamaria since Ma died. How dare he! She must see my anger because she holds her hands up in defense.

"Don't be mad at Jack, Toni," she tells me. I roll my eyes at the name. I don't like being called that anymore. I shake my head in frustration but she doesn't let up, "I didn't know about you or Angelica until the next year when he brought you aboard the ship." I feel like I want to break his face right now.

"So that whole year that I was alone, he was off gallivanting with you?"She shakes her head vigorously.

"No," she placed her hand on my balled fist, "He was mending a broken heart, Toni. For real," she looked away, "It pained me to see him in such a state. But...things just happened along the way. When he brought you on bored I didn't feel comfortable around not knowing how you would react to our relationship with your mother gone and all. I made him choose you or me and he chose you."

What?

***NotMuchLater***

I rub my eyes sleepily when I open them. light pours into the room that I'm in. I yawn widely and then clutch my head in pain. What...happened...to me…? I close my eyes and try to will my head to suck it up and get itself into gear. I don't have the time to nurse a hangover. That's when I sit up abruptly, the blood rushing to my head.

What in the world did I do to get a hangover? I don't remember anything of last night. What exactly did I do? I hear the door open as I lay my head back down and try to drown out the squeaking noise of the door. Who ever it is will probably wish they didn't come in here with me in such a state.

"Get out before I kill you," I tell them and then I hear a shuffle of boots and the door shutting. A muffled voice behind it tells me that they took my advice. I hear nothing more, so I force myself to sleep. When I wake up again, I have the urge to throw my insides up so I run to the nearest window and spill the contents of my stomach, which isn't much considering how much I've eaten in the last day or two. I don't believe I had anything to drink today...or was it yesterday? I'm going to guess that it was yesterday, seeing as it's morning right now and I got to the tavern in the afternoon.

I realize that my stomach contents ended up on a scarcely dressed woman down there who is yelling wildly now. She looks around for me and I duck beneath the window, hoping that she hasn't seen me yet. I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes again. I'm a complete mess right now. My head still hurts, my stomach is queasy, and I have no idea what time it is. I hear a knock on the door and I surprise myself when I call out who is it.

"It's me," I hear a accented female voice call from the other side. Anamaria. Who else would it be? I do believe it was Marty who came in earlier. He is dead meat when I get the chance and time to skin him alive.

Sarcastically speaking, of course.

Or is it…?

The door opens even when I didn't tell her she could come in. I turn my head away from her, the conversation from last night coming to mind from seeing her. Why in the world would Jack ever pick me? Why wouldn't he just drop me off at the nearest port (or why would he pick me up at all?) and leave me for good? I'm pretty sure everyone would be happy with that. After all, Grand-Da' Teague didn't raise Jack. Jack should not have felt obligated to raise me. Not like he did very much of it anyway in the earlier years. I'm pretty sure it was Will who convinced Jack to finally come and see me. I knew I liked Will for some reason or another. I just never really figured out why.

"Sure, sure, come on in," I say with a lazy gesture even when she's already half way across the floor, coming over to me. She crouches down in front of me, balancing on the balls of her feet. She places a hand on my bent knee.

"You feeling better now?" she asks.

Stupid question but valid none the less. I give her a curt nod and just stare at nothing. I feel a question bubbling up in my throat and it eventually spills over, "What exactly did I do last night to deserve a hangover today?" I ask. She gives a slightly guilty smile and I frown, "What did you do?" the accusation slips from my mouth before i can stop it but she doesn't seem offended. I seem to have forgotten that this is a common thing amongst pirates.

"It's more like what I didn't do," she says and lowers her bottom down onto the floor, crossing her legs, "When I told you about what Jack did you ordered the nearest barmaid to bring you a bottle. It quickly escalated from there. I didn't stop you because I figured you deserved to try to forget some things for one night. That seems to have been an error on my part." I rub my forehead, some of the fuzziness is still there and I don't remember anything of last except our conversation, then it gets all blurry and...I got nothing.

"Anything...interesting happen while I drank myself into a stupor?" I ask and she licks her lips. My eyes widen what she might be insinuating, "I-I didn't do...that did I?" she looks genuinely confused but then realization dawns on her and she gets my meaning. I am going to take this as a good sign that I didn't get it on with any of the woman downstairs. I avert my mind to other things such as why I am still here. I need to go back to the Prancing Pony and get my horse back. I doubt that he'll still be there but I've got to try, you know? Hopefully she will trust me again as she once did. of course, that it something I find highly doubtful.

"I have to go," I tell her this a solemn tone. Her face sinks a bit but she nods approvingly.

"I understand. We interrupted your life here on an account of you aiding ours but since you do not know where Jack is at the moment, then we have no further reason to continue intruding upon your life." She stands up and rubs my shoulder, "It has been wonderful seeing you again, Toni. Even if it is under these circumstances." I nod to her.

"I should probably thank you for saving my skin back there yesterday. It was sort of a large accident that put me there."

"I had been wondering what you were doing in court."

I sigh and stand up, with no little effort on my part with me still feeling a bit tipsy as it were I run a hand through my hair and then answer her, "Just the same old same old. I get blamed for something that I didn't do. I lose the rust of the only I friend I really have. I try to escape from prison and that totally backfired. And that isn't even the best part. No! I learn that Danielle is so very confused with me that she actually defends me when she must think I plotted her uncle's death and instead got her mother killed!" I am yelling by the end of my rant while Anamaria just sits there with a frighteningly calm expression. I throw my hands up in exasperation, "Will the universe not leave me alone at all?!"

"What's this about a Danielle?" that is the only part she caught of it. Really? You have got to be joking. Why is it that everyone seems to be interested in this type of subject lately?

"She's...she's no one," I lie, "Just a friend I picked up that most likely hates my guts right now," now that is the truth. I hobble towards the door, my feet stumbling a bit. Just as I reach the door and go to pull it open, it swings open by itself and hits me hard in the face. I fall to the floor and clutch my nose, blood dripping out and on to my hands. I shake my head in order to get rid of the stars I see in my vision. Marty appears from the door's entrance and I glare heavily at him, "What is the universe's problem with me!" I yell to no one in particular. Marty grimaces but turns to Anamaria.

"You might wanna see this," he throws his thumb in the direction of downstairs. The dark woman follows Marty and I grumble and get up too to follow them. We file down the stairs and what we see down there shocks us into reality.

Gibbs is absolutely raving mad right now.

Literally. He's there, eyes wide, running 'round shouting mighty loud. Anamaria, Cotton and Marty are already over near him and are dragging him upstairs. he's still shaking, loud mouthing, and trying to get away but we eventually get him into the room and shut the door quickly. Marty grabs his gun and uses the butt of it to knock Gibbs out. Coincidence that he's here at the same time that we wer? I think not. If he's been missing for two months along with Jack then someone must have sent him to us.

It takes two hours before Gibbs wakes up again, this time he's not raving mad. Thank goodness, but he'll have a bump on his head for another week from the hit that Marty gave him. My only real concern right now is that when Gibbs lays his eyes on me he seems so surprised it's like we didn't even see each other two weeks ago. He looks happy to see me though, which is good I guess.

"Toni, lad!" he exclaims when he recognizes my face, "It's been a while since our last meet, aye?" I frown at this.

"Two weeks is not a very long time," a bunch of stuff sure can happen in two weeks though. Taking the time to lost everything the last fourteen days would take far too long so I won't, perhaps some other time. It's Gibbs turn to frown this time before confusion settles over him.

"I don't recall…" He shakes his head and then looks at the others, searching for someone else, "Where be Jack at?" he stands up and dusts his filthy clothing off, but that doesn't do much to help his appearance...and the smell is just as bad. He's an old blighter but he doesn't change very much. The brown that had once been in his hair has completely disappeared but his white beard-sideburns facial hair thing is as gross as ever. The only things that have really changed about him is his hair color and that he wears brown boots instead of black.

"You don't remember?" Anamaria steps forward, "You and Jack went ashore in Tortuga and never came back. We feared the worst but then caught rumors and such and followed them. We just found you raving mad about something of sorts. That sound familiar at all?"

Gibbs' face scrunches up, "I remember Tortuga but after that everything's a bit fuzzy. Why, somethin' happenin?" I hit my palm against my forehead and grown. Why does everything have to be a mess like this? I bet if I don't go looking for Jack and forget about it he'll come to me but then whoever has him would be expecting that and not send him anyway, but if I do go looking for him they'll take him farther than he already is and then we really won't find him. Doesn't make sense to me at all why they would take Jack of all people.

Then there's the matter of getting to Danielle's and explaining, then I have to go and find out if my horse was stolen or is still there (I highly doubt the latter), then I have to find Jack of all people who needs rescuing! I take a deep breath and try to separate my thoughts to make it easier to think. In the mean time I half listen, half ignore, the conversation that the other four are having. I actually don't see a reason why I have to rescue Jack, except for the fact that he and Anamaria are together now and I don't really care to have a bad relationship with Anamaria. We're great friends and I would hate to see her hurt by my anger towards Jack. She doesn't deserve to have such a scumbag like Jack. She could definitely do better but if she cares for him and he her (as far as I know) then I don't see why I shouldn't help her.

Now that's decided, on to other matters.

"I'll be back before nightfall, but I've got to leave now," I tell them out of the blue. They stop their conversation and just look at me, "I already told you that I've got things to do and they can't be put off any longer." I don't say anything more than that before I leave. I'm allowed to keep the sword they lent me until I can get mine back (that is very unlikely though) and I don't have much else except the clothes on my back.

The streets are rather busy today in London so it is hard to navigate through it quickly. I manage though to get back to the Prancing Pony tavern. I ask around for a dark brown horse but it seems he is no longer here. Great. Just what I needed. I guess hitching a ride out to the countryside would be beneficial to my feet indefinitely. Though to figure out which carriage is headed in the way of my destination is the hard part.

I only hope that at my destination I shall be able to accomplish what I want…

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks again to those who have reviewed so far, and a special thanks to "Girl with guns" for kicking me in the arse for me such a jerk to you. I needed that, so thanks :)<strong>


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